They All Lived Story 18: Twilight
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Sara's eighteen and going for the State Alchemy Exam, Aldon's a teenager, and Ethan's a kid with big dreams. Edward and Winry have their hands full as life hands the Elric family a whole new series of challenges.


**Author's Note: **As always happens, eventually children grow up and become real characters. Story 18 (and 19) deals a lot with the growing Elric kids, and Ed and Winry's trials as the parents of teens and young adults. As such, these stories deal rather heavily with some of the kids' experiences. This is setting things up for later plot though, so please don't worry. The kids are certainly _not_ permanently taking over the series!

* * *

**May 14****th****, 1945**

"Sara. Come on, are you up yet?"

Sara Elric groaned and poked her head out from under her pillow. "Leave me alone, Aldon. School's out!" _Really_ out. She'd graduated from high school two days ago, she was eighteen, and she was _free_. Well, sort of.

"You've still got classes," Aldon countered, sounding smug from the other side of the door. Brothers! "And Mom says if you want breakfast you'll come downstairs now before she feeds your portion to the puppy."

Okay, so the entire family was out to get her this morning. "Is there a message from Dad too?" she called back. Yes, she had classes. She had actually finished her high school work up ahead of time by working through last summer and finished up back in December as far as regular classes went. A plan she had arranged with the school so she could get into the State's alchemy classes officially this year, instead of waiting the intervening months between regular graduation and the next class. That would have been a serious waste of time once she had made up her mind to go for the State Exam.

"Just that you'd better not be late," Aldon relayed. Sara heard her door creak open and knew her fourteen year old brother had come in. "Maybe you should call in, Sis," he teased. "Can't have everyone at HQ thinking Fullmetal's _golden child _couldn't handle a couple of graduation parties."

Sara loved her little brother, but _sometimes!_ She pitched a pillow at him, which he dodged easily. "I'm fine, Don," she grumbled, rolling over, reluctant to pull out of her warm covers. Graduation had been Saturday, but the social activities and last-chance camaraderie of her classmates had lasted until late into Sunday night. She was tired and groggy, but she wasn't hung over. Really, all she'd had last night was a single glass of wine. What had hurt most was the goodbye.

Last night, Mars Leighton had boarded a train for Creta.

_"If you said so, I wouldn't go," Mars whispered in her ear as they stood on the Central Station platform, caught tightly in a hug. _

_"And if I said don't go, it wouldn't be fair to either of us," Sara replied. "It's amazing that your aunt got you the chance to study at Creta's most prestigious university!" His grandmother on his mother's side was Cretan, and he had family there. _

_"I know," Mars sighed. "And I'm grateful to her. It's a great chance, I just wish it wasn't so far away." The University wasn't in Creta's capital, but all the way on the other side of the country, along the Ocean that Sara had only ever heard about, or seen on a map. "I'm going to miss you," he murmured, his face buried in her hair. _

_"Hey now," Sara pushed him back then, smiling up at him despite the sadness she felt. "Remember what we promised? No tears, no ties. We'll stay friends and write, but no expectations." It had been easier that way. He would be gone for at least four years, if not more, and while they had dated for three years, they both knew it wasn't really a forever thing. But that didn't mean saying goodbye to one of your dearest friends didn't hurt. _

_"I know," Mars smiled down at her, looking just as choked up as she felt. "I'd wish you good luck in the Exam next winter, but I already know you'll pass it no sweat." _

_"And I want to see the buildings you design some day," Sara chuckled, then dropped off, biting her lip as she tried to think of what else to say._

_"Damn, I'm going to miss you so much," Mars crushed her to him once more, and then they kissed; a long, warm, lingering kiss. Without another word – neither wanted to actually say good-bye – Mars picked up his bag and Sara watched him mount the stairs onto the train just before it began to pull away. _

"_Sure_ you are," Aldon replied to her 'I'm fine,' though the earlier flippancy was no longer in his tone, even though it was clear he didn't believe her. "If it happened to me, I'd be pretty bummed too." He sighed. "You'll be all right. Get up and shower. I'll tell Mom to keep breakfast warm."

Sara rolled over again and gave her brother a tired smile. "Thanks, Don. You're the best."

Aldon smiled back at her. "You're welcome, and I know."

Sara waited until she heard Aldon's feet on the stairs before she crawled out of bed and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. She grimaced as she looked at the mess her hair was in and took it down, brushing it out before putting it back up in its usual long plaited tail. She washed her face, brushed after-party morning mouth off her teeth, and then padded downstairs in her pajamas.

As she came down the hall into the living room, Sara could see Ethan outside playing with the puppy. Her youngest brother tossed the ball with all the strength his eight year old body possessed, and the little black and cream dog shot across the grass running at full speed.

Sara felt another short pang of loss, though she shook it off. In the last two years both Oscar and Chase had passed away, both dogs having lived very long, full lives. The house had been too quiet without a dog around. All of the kids had missed them, and Riza Mustang had offered a puppy from one of her dogs' litters; a grand-cousin of Chase's basically.

The new baby in the Elric family was the female pup, whom Ethan had dubbed Bounce, because that was what she did as she ran, leaping and bounding.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming down."

Sara turned and saw her mother, sitting at the table drinking a cup of tea. "Sorry," she smiled. "I got in pretty late."

"Mars caught his train without trouble?" Winry asked softly.

Sara sighed, dropping into her usual seat at the table and nodding. "Yeah. I saw him off at the station last night after the party." It wasn't as if the world had ended, but it did seem a bit grayer despite the sunny day beyond the windows.

Winry nodded. "I heard you come in." She sighed. "It's always hard to watch someone you care about go away, even when you know they need to."

Something in her voice made Sara look up from the plate she was filling with breakfast food. There would be sparring today after morning classes, and she knew she was going to need the energy. "Does being the one left behind always hurt?" she asked finally. Of all people, her mother would know.

"Always," Winry replied, offering her a smile. "But that's why we don't just stay behind and do nothing, do we? Make plans, stay busy, do worthwhile things, and the time passes and life continues."

"And sometimes, go harrying off after them?" Sara actually teased as she stirred a heap of sugar into her tea.

"When necessary," Winry chuckled, clearly understanding what Sara meant in jest. "You both have plans and goals for your lives. I'm proud of you for being able to keep things in perspective."

Sara felt her cheeks flush a little, and she hid briefly behind her tea cup until she had it back under control. "Thanks, Mom." Despite the fact she and her mother argued over a lot of things – more than she ever did with her father – it was more because of how similar they were sometimes than differences. Winry didn't care that her daughter's tomboyish tendencies, Sara knew that. Winry had never been girly, even if she did have better taste in clothes most of the time. That was more of a natural sense of aesthetics than anything else. She also didn't mind that Sara took after her Dad when it came to doing alchemy, and had only given a knowing sigh and smiled when Sara told her last summer she definitely wanted to take the State Alchemy Exam.

"Where's Aldon?" she asked then, realizing she hadn't seen him since he woke her up. Belatedly, she started working on breakfast as she realized it was just sitting there getting cold, and she really didn't have time to waste.

"Already down in the cellar," Winry chuckled. "Working on whatever invention he's cooking up now." She sounded amused, but also proud. Aldon was the one who babbled for hours with Mom about machinery and engineering.

"I should probably get moving," Sara mumbled between bites. "I know I did this to myself, but it would have been nice if we didn't have a morning class today." She knew she probably could have convinced her Uncle Alphonse, who was covering that morning's subject, to give her a little leeway if she had asked in advance, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. Aldon's calling her '_Fullmetal's golden child_' earlier had only been a partial jest. She knew a lot of the Brass personally, and got along well with a lot of the lower officers and even a bunch of the enlisted. She had credit with them for her actions in the Battle of the Eastern Pass three years back during the Xing invasion that had nearly claimed her father's life. All this, however, did _not _make her overly popular with her _classmates_. Sighing, Sara finished off her breakfast and stood. "Thanks for not feeding Bounce my food," she chuckled. "I need to get dressed. At this rate, I'm going to have to run or I'll be late."

"No you won't," Winry commented calmly over her cup. "Alphonse picked Edward up this morning. I have the car."

Those were musical words on a day like this. "Did I ever mention I love you guys?"

"Occasionally," Winry chuckled. "Get dressed and we'll give you a lift. I'm dropping Aldon off at the library before going in to the shop."

"What's Ethan doing?" Sara asked as she turned to go upstairs.

"Getting his fingers adjusted," Winry replied. "He's got a couple of dents that are interfering with finer movements."

Sara winced. It was probably Ethan's least favorite activity. Sara knew it always made his hand cramp and hurt for hours afterwards, but there was little to be done about it. He kept growing and auto-mail had to be kept up. "Tell him I'll take him out for ice cream when I get home," she grinned.

"I will," Winry smiled.

Sara hurried upstairs, slipped into comfortable cotton pants and a shirt, nothing fancy, but both in different shades of blue. She grabbed a pair of flat shoes and came back downstairs. She kept a set of workout clothes in a locker at HQ like most of her class. It was just easier than hauling the things back and forth; clothes she could sweat in were the _only_ thing she had an overabundance of.

The whole family piled into the car – the puppy went into the laundry room with her food and water dish – and Winry dropped Sara at Headquarters only a few minutes later.

Glancing at a clock as Sara entered the right building and headed for the classroom, she was glad to find she was going to make it, if only barely! She slid into the room a couple of minutes before the door would be closed, and took her seat in the rows of tables that tiered up the room. The first class this morning was lecture, then there would be a laboratory session over in the Lab classrooms they had access to in Lab 1, before sparring with each other in the afternoon. A busy day, but hopefully keeping busy would take her mind off of other things… like dark brown eyes.

She ignored the looks from a couple of her classmates as she sat down, and the whisper from one girl about 'look who shows up late like she owns the place. What a Prima Dona.' Sara really didn't care what they thought of her. She knew they felt she didn't really belong in the class. In some ways, she couldn't say they were wrong either. Sara was leaps and bounds ahead of them in some areas. She had learned to fight and do alchemy from the very men who had created the program and were still in charge of it; still teaching. She had even used alchemy in a real battlefield situation when she was barely fourteen. Allowed to sit in on a bunch of these classes in the past and having taken part in conversations that covered a lot of the material; she actually knew most of what the class had to offer.

But Sara had felt that, to do things right, she needed to be here. Her father and uncle were accomplished alchemists, but while she had learned a lot from them, she had not done a lot of her own research, nor had she much experience with laboratory alchemy. There were complex ethical questions that could be discussed for years without having real answers. She was actually getting a lot out of regular attendance. She just wished that her classmates would give her a break. It wasn't like her bloodlines were her fault, and besides, she was _proud_ of that heritage. After roughly two months of class, she had already made the first cut –and sat through her father's painfully retelling of much of his life story; really harrowing experience for her, especially with the few details she had never known before – and the class was down to twenty.

Sara pushed her frustrations out of her head before she said something she would regret later, and focused as Uncle Al – the True Soul Alchemist in class – came into the room looking as bright and alert and relaxed as ever. "Good morning," he grinned as he took his spot at the front of the room. "Today we're going to pick up with the discussion we left off on at the end of the day on Friday, regarding the ethical use of alchemy in augmenting certain plant materials to stimulate and enhance their effects."

It was actually a fascinating lecture, and one that had become much more detailed, Sara knew, after her father's experiences with the Xing who had subverted their own alchemy to torture him. Even now, years later, her Dad still broke out in sweats getting shots, and he had never liked needles to begin with, so it hadn't helped.

Friday they had discussed the use of enhancing plants natural effects in use in healing the proper way, and what was appropriate and what wasn't. It had been a reasonably straight-forward lecture before they had shifted into the uses that drifted more toward the iffy; stimulants and depressants of various sorts that could be used to help potentially with many diseases or mental issues, but some of which had nasty effects to them, or if used unethically and without careful dosage, could be permanently harmful.

"When we left off," Alphonse continued, "We were just getting to the discussion on the use of alchemy to enhance lower-priority substances, such as aphrodisiacs."

At that, Sara noticed several of the men in their class sit up, and managed not to roll her eyes and sigh out loud, or make a sarcastic remark. It wouldn't do any good and she wouldn't disrupt a class for something so trivial. She was going to have to watch herself though, given her mood.

A hand went up near the front. "Can alchemy really be used to make love potions?" One of the guys, Calvin Fischer – who went by Cal - asked the question Sara had been expecting.

Alphonse smiled, obviously expecting it as well. He shook his head. "Not in the way the stories claim, Mister Fischer. Even alchemy cannot create a potion that will make a person permanently fall in love with anybody else, or even temporarily; not real love. It's pretty easy to get a physical response out of someone based on attraction after all." There were a few snickers in the room. "But we all know of ways to loosen folks up, get them to relax and be a little more flexible, don't we?" His eyes went to several of the guys in the room, who fidgeted and tried not to look guilty. "In its most basic form, alchemy is natural. If someone's uptight, or a little stressed, sometimes they'll have a drink to relax and stop worrying; alchemy. The reaction most women _have_ to have chocolate," This time some of the girls fidgeted, "is based on a reaction of the body to different elements in the chocolate; body chemistry changing; natural alchemy."

It made a lot of sense, and Sara listened as Alphonse actually went through several other examples and how alchemy had been used at various times experimentally to enhance those effects. "The question," he finally came to it. "Is how much of this _should_ be done? What's _having a little fun_, and where does it become manipulation of someone else, or even of your _own _mind to an extent that goes beyond reasonable?"

That started a flurry of conversation and debate with a range of answers from 'it should never to be done' to 'what's the real harm anyway?' Back and forth they went for over an hour on it. Sara eventually began to lose patience after her own suggestion that such practices, whether they were ethical or not, were completely unnecessary elicited several glares and a couple of snide comments from her classmates. "It's more trouble than it's worth," she pressed the issue. "Messing with anyone's real emotions, or their ability to reason through them, is only going to harm them in the long run. Even if they are able to temporarily act on emotions, they may regret it later; or find that their reaction was poorly timed, complicates their lives, or has other consequences no one foresaw. Messing with people's minds is never amusing or a joke."

She was the only person in the room who had seen her father while he was still under the effects of the alchemically produced drugs that had been pumped into his system for days. She had watched him struggle unconsciously and suffer until they were truly out of his system. In the years since then, he had admitted just some of what that experience had been like; some of the hallucinations he had endured. All right, it was an extreme case – much more traumatic than slipping someone a little extra something in their wine at a party to help them relax, or being prescribed by an actual physician for medical purposes – but there were some things alchemists just _should not_ mess with! "It might as well be human transmutation," she finished with a shrug.

That last statement made the room go quiet. Mentioning taboo alchemy, especially so casually, still made most of them uncomfortable. Calling something they had mostly been joking about akin to that…well no one really wanted to say a word. She received a lot of glares though.

"She has a point."

Sara was startled when someone actually spoke up into the heavy silence. She looked, and noticed that it was Cal Fischer again. _Amazing. _She hadn't thought he had the common sense to follow half the conversation. Okay so that was unfair since he was _here _after all and that meant something. Still, he played the fool and the carefree flirt too easily for her tastes.

"I mean," Cal continued. "I wouldn't want to think a girl was into me just because I _made_ her feel that way. We all get hormonal, but it's not the same thing as really falling for someone." From the way he talked, Sara began to wonder if maybe Cal had a little more experience when it came to actual _love_ than he pretended. "When it doesn't work out, it hurts too. When something wears off and you, or the other person, get back to normal, I think it would hurt both people pretty badly having to deal with it. I mean, dating's hard enough as it is without messing with people's heads more!" All she could see was the back of his sandy curls, but she could imagine the sincerity in those deep gray eyes in the front of his head.

"Well put, Mister Fischer," Alphonse was smiling and nodding approvingly. "As you and Miss Elric have both pointed out, the issue is not so much about shades of grey lines of appropriateness – but whether or not it's ever worth doing that to anyone, even if an alchemist is using those potions only on himself. These practices do also very dangerously skirt along the lines towards human transmutation and are easily abused."

The discussion wound down soon after that and Sara was glad to escape the confines of the classroom. There was a little time to get over to the Lab, so she got a drink of water, used the restroom, and tried not to look ruffled.

The Lab session went better. There was no real discussion, just piles of ingredients, instructions, and they were expected to transmute something simple. This early in the game, most of what they were transmuting wasn't complicated or dangerous. Sara and her father had actually covered things this simple when she was first learning to understand the make-up of things, but had moved past it fairly quickly into judging existing items and transmuting them into other things. That was more often what happened in a practical situation rather than having laboratory ready ingredients.

She looked at the little containers and the instructions and started measuring. It wasn't unlike cooking with her mother really – simple calculations and proper measurements. Of course, cooking had a little more play to it than what they were doing here. As soon as she had everything apportioned out she pictured the final product in her mind and transmuted it. It only took a couple of seconds and she was looking at a metal cup. Hers wasn't plain, but embellished with a simple ivy vine pattern embossed along the outside.

She was the first one done. Within a few minutes though, several more cups appeared, each indicative of skill and personal style. Out of the twenty of them, sixteen produced the cup right on the first try.

Miriam Golan, the Prism Alchemist, came around and looked at their work, smiling, making suggestions for improvement, and then they discussed the process as a whole and what had gone wrong or right with particular examples. Sara listened carefully; she liked Miriam. The woman was patient, knowledgeable, and treated everyone in the class fairly. She had been in the first class that Sara's father had taught for the State too.

After Lab, Sara was glad to escape to lunch and was eager for that afternoon's sparring. Most of what they did was drills, but she had found that even drilling moves she knew was helpful. And depending on who was covering the class, sometimes there were moves that she and her father and Uncle rarely used, but were important to practice as well in case they ever came in handy.

Sara stood in line with the soldiers and other alchemists in the Mess Hall, waiting for her chance to grab her apportioned _grub_ – military food couldn't be called much else – thinking about what they had drilled on last time, and wondering what they would cover today with the Strong Arm Alchemist leading the class.

"Hello, Sara."

She blinked, her concentration broken. Sara looked up at the soldier who had stepped into line behind her; reasonably tall, dark hair, nice shoulders and dark eyes that smiled from behind thin-rimmed glasses. Very familiar eyes. "Franz Heimler, what are _you_ doing here?"

Franz laughed, his smooth low-tenor voice a soothingly familiar sound. "You said if I was ever in Central to stop by," he teased. "Actually, I just transferred to Central; arrived yesterday."

"That's great," Sara grinned, still a little dazed at having her long time pen-pal standing in line with her in the Mess without prior notice. Then she mock scowled at him. "So why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Franz shrugged, indicating the epaulets on his shoulders. "I wanted to surprise you."

It was then that Sara actually took in the rank insignia her friend was wearing. "Second Lieutenant? You went officer!"

"Yep," Franz smiled, looking a little embarrassed but pleased at the same time. "Bors and Lina said I was wasting my talents doing grunt work and I went through OCS out East. Then they recommended I transfer back here."

"Congratulations," Sara grinned as they reached the business end of the line and she took a tray of food. "Do you know what office you're going to be in?"

Franz actually blushed a little as he took his tray and followed her to a table. "President Breda's office," he admitted quietly, sitting down across from her. "Apparently he approved the request himself when he heard about my transfer. It'll be mostly paperwork and menial tasks for a while I'm sure, but…" he shrugged, and that said it as eloquently as words could. To be in the President's office, even as just an aide, was nothing to sniff at! "I didn't think he had any idea who I was."

Sara chuckled. "President Breda has a long memory, Franz. He also believes in giving people their due." She had a nice little chunk of money that attested to that fact. After she had gotten home from the war in Xing she had been surprised to receive an actual check from the government for services rendered during her temporary commission as _Private_ Elric. She hadn't known that Breda had actually filed paperwork when he had told her she could consider herself enlisted for the rest of the engagement. Active duty pay was pretty good too! And Sara's had been accruing interest, untouched, for four years. "A Lieutenant's stripe looks good on you," she added, teasing him a little.

Franz grinned. "I'm glad you think so. I'm still getting used to it. Though, you're in the Alchemy program this year still right? If so, you'll outstrip me just by passing that test." He sounded amused though, not bothered by it at all. Was that a hint of pride?

Sara had been writing him for so long, she had almost forgotten just how much she often found herself putting in her letters. It was easy to tell someone who wasn't there things sometimes more than the people who were. "That's right," she smiled, trying not to go back and remember everything she had written in the past year. "It's been pretty… interesting."

"Something wrong, Belle?" Franz's brow creased gently in concern; slipping into the nickname he often called her. _Belle of the East_; a phrase coined by those who had seen her use alchemy to protect them in combat with Xing. With Franz it was a nickname, a term of friendly endearment.

"Not really," Sara shrugged and started eating. "Some of my classmates just don't understand why I'm here. They seem to think I'm already guaranteed to get in the program just because my last name is Elric."

"That's ridiculous," Franz shook his head. "I mean, you probably _are_ a shoo-in, but it's because of your skills and talent, not because of who your family is."

"Still, favoritism to family isn't unheard of," Sara sighed. "With other families and in other fields. Even in the military there are families that have a long history of service. It's not really worth trying to explain that my family is different, or that I'm actually learning things now that I haven't learned before, or didn't focus on primarily before this."

"They'll learn," Franz smiled sympathetically. "And if they don't, well that's their problem. You were something else when you were fourteen; I can't imagine what you're capable of now."

Sara grinned. He had always been good with words, full of encouragement, but it was so nice to have that interaction face to face instead of through leaves of paper. "I'm a much better fighter for one thing."

"I'll have to see that," Franz chuckled. He had never been loud, but now there was a little more confidence to the slightly bookish, friendly young man Sara had befriended on the front. She found that she rather_ liked_ the little changes in him.

"I've got drills after lunch," Sara replied. "If you like, I can show you the gymnasium. We have a really nice facility here."

"That would be great!" Franz's expression brightened a little more. "I was hoping to get in a workout today, but hadn't had a chance to get over there. I don't officially have to start in the office until tomorrow. A full day to get settled is apparently enough," he grinned.

"Trial by fire," Sara chuckled. "Especially with this," she gestured to the food on their plates. "You should really come by the house sometime. Mom's a great cook and," she smirked at him. "I believe I owe you a pie." An offer she had made him four years ago.

Franz looked momentarily surprised, then that sweet, easy smile returned. "You remembered."

"Of course I did," Sara replied. "I never forget promises." Especially not ones made to friends.

They chatted while they finished eating; mostly non-consequential things, gossip from the squad at Eastern Command, Aldon's latest experiment. Then they walked down to the locker rooms together.

Sara got a bit of a surprise when she came out of the women's side and got a good look at Franz who was already doing warm up stretches for his own work out. They were a little early for Sara's class, but she was fine with that.

The good looking young private Sara had last seen had been fit and very nicely built, but now into mid-20s he had a lot more definition. His shoulders were broader too. "What happened to you?" she teased, ignoring the skip of her heart when she had first noticed the tone of his muscles. She had thought her childhood crush long gone. She'd have to watch that.

Franz stood up, then seemed to realize what she meant and laughed, running one hand through his dark hair on the back of his head. He looked slightly embarrassed. "Started as a bet actually; a contest between Bors and me to see who could bulk up a little. I put on ten pounds of muscle."

_And how._ Sara chuckled. "And Bors?"

Franz's grin was actually slightly cruel. "He just put on ten pounds."

"Ouch," Sara winced, but couldn't help laughing. "That can't have gone over well." Sergeant Bors wasn't a bad guy really; but he had a few personal flaws that had kept him from ever rising higher in the ranks. That and he liked things where he was, or so he claimed.

"Not at all," Franz shook his head. "He'll get it back off before long. He's got the entire squad on his back about it," he chuckled. "I can tell you've been working too."

Sara warmed as she realized that while she had been looking over the changes in her friend, he had been doing the same to her. She felt immediately foolish about feeling self-conscious standing in the gymnasium in her usual shorts and sleeveless top. It was ridiculous; she wore this all the time. "Thanks," she replied, smiling. "Dad's original alchemy teacher was big on training the body as well as the mind. It's a principle he and Uncle Al take seriously."

"Well it's proven worth it historically hasn't it?" Franz agreed. "And not just for alchemists," he added, grinning.

Sara chuckled, relaxing again. "That's certainly true. "

"Good afternoon, Miss Elric!" The boom of a familiarly dramatic voice carried as General Alex Armstrong entered the room. "I see you are warming up early. Commendable."

"Yes, Sir," Sara turned, trying to smile like she meant it. Really, she liked the man most of the time, but in small doses!

"Ah, I see you have company," Armstrong smiled. "My apologies if I have interrupted anything."

"N-no, General Sir," Franz smiled, saluting. "Miss Elric was kind enough to show me the gymnasium, Sir. I am Second Lieutenant Franz Heimler, recent transfer from Eastern Command."

"Ah, a pleasure to have you with us," Armstrong nodded. "I heard your name from President Breda. I look forward to speaking with you again soon. Come along, Miss Elric. We have training!"

_'Sorry,'_ Sara mouthed to Franz as she turned and followed the towering Strong Arm Alchemist over to the mats.

Franz grinned at her and waved, mouthing _'Later!'_

Not willing to consider the warm feeling that gave her – Mars had just left last night – Sara decided to focus on work. It was simpler!

* * *

Winry was in her home workshop focused on finishing the edges on some fingers for an auto-mail hand when she heard the front door close and the sound of Sara's footsteps as she came in. Over the years, Winry had become adept at telling everyone in her family by the sounds of their feet. Each had their own distinct rhythm.

There was a knock at the door behind her. "Come in, Sara," Winry called out without taking her eyes from the polisher as it ground the edge into a smooth finish. She heard the door open and knew that Sara was waiting for her to finish.

"How did today go?" Winry asked after she turned off the machine, turning around and pulling her protective glasses away from her face. She was glad to see that Sara was smiling.

"Great," Sara answered enthusiastically. "Or well, it started out pretty lousy but my point got made, transmutation went well, and guess what?"

"What?" Winry crossed her arms and smiled, not even trying to guess. If Sara, or Ed, said_ guess what_ it was just better to let them answer! They both blew hot and cold so easily. Apparently, for Sara, this was one of those days.

"Franz is in Central." Sara's eyes were bright as she didn't even try to hide her enthusiasm. "He's been transferred!"

"Franz… Heimler? Your friend from the East?" Winry wanted to make sure she was following the conversation. Her daughter had been writing back and forth with the young soldier ever since Xing. There had been letters, pictures; that beautiful scarf for her fifteenth birthday.

"Yes!" Sara squealed. Sara almost _never _squealed. "He's a Second Lieutenant now. He's going to be in Breda's office."

"That's one heck of a transfer," Winry chuckled. "Congratulate him for me."

"Oh, you can do that yourself," Sara grinned. "Or at least, if you don't mind, I told him he could come by sometime for pie; I owe him one from about four years ago. I was thinking tomorrow night maybe?"

Her daughter had been sulking about her high school boyfriend leaving just that morning. While Winry was glad to see her happy, something struck her as a little off. "Don't you think it's a little soon?" She asked tentatively, hoping to get Sara to talk.

But, like her father, Sara jumped the other way. "Oh_ please_, Mom," she rolled her eyes. "Don't start. Franz is a good friend. He doesn't really know Central yet and I'm one of the only people he knows. Besides," her eyes flashed, warning Winry she was treading on dangerous ground with her daughter at the moment. "Mars and I agreed that it was over when he left. We'll always be friends, but we both knew it wasn't going to be forever. But having Franz over has nothing to do with Mars, so please don't try and make assumptions that the two are connected."

"Fine," Winry sighed. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to be sure." She smiled again. "Of course Franz is welcome to come over for dinner tomorrow night. You just have to do one thing."

"What's that?" Sara asked, looking wary.

Winry smirked. "Warn your father."

**May 15****th****, 1945**

It was a singularly strange and wonderful sensation to be making the walk from Central HQ back to the Elric house with Franz Heimler walking beside her. They had met up at the end of the day by the gates. Franz had taken the time to run back to his room in the NCO quarters and change into civvies first. It was the first time Sara had actually ever seen him out of uniform. Casual khakis and a medium-blue collared polo looked _really_ good on him.

It was a very nice afternoon, sunny and warm but not too hot. The sky was clear, save for a few fat, fluffy white clouds. She could have waited for her father and caught a ride, but Sara really enjoyed catching up with Franz in person, and the walk home gave her Dad time to get home, Mom time to finish up dinner – they had made the pies the night before – and _her_ time to deal with the fact that her mother probably didn't entirely believe that they were just friends.

"So," Franz chuckled as the conversation lulled for a moment. "How should I do this? I mean, normally it wouldn't be an issue, but the last time I went over to someone's house for dinner that someone wasn't a living legend."

"For starters, don't call him that," Sara smiled.

"It makes him uncomfortable?" Franz looked over at her.

"It makes him insufferable," Sara chuckled, teasing. "No really, if you need to use a title to feel comfortable, go with Fullmetal, or just Mister Elric. If you weren't going to be new in the same office you could probably get away with Edward."

"Sir," Franz laughed. "Sir is always safe."

"That works too," Sara nodded. "I should probably warn you. Mom was a little, well, surprised when I wanted to invite you over."

"Because Mars left?" Franz guessed. Sara had told him in her last letter that Mars would be going to Creta, and she had mentioned it earlier in the day.

Sara nodded. "That was never a forever thing. He's one of my best friends, but…"

"But sometimes good things end," Franz smiled, sounding a little sad himself. "I'd like to say it was hard to say goodbye to Ilsa, but really, she and I liked each other for the conversations, the kissing, and she enjoyed my paychecks." He chuckled softly.

"So it wasn't serious?" Sara had never really pried too much into Franz's private life. What he volunteered, which had been a decent amount, she read with interest, but he was older and she hadn't felt comfortable prying too much. Any side information she got from _Lina._

"No," Franz shrugged. "Not really but, as you said, it was never a forever thing." He chuckled. "Maybe that's good, though it does leave me with a conundrum."

"What's that?" Sara asked.

"There's this big State dinner event next week, and the entire office is expected to attend," Franz replied. "I've never been to something like that, have you?"

"A few," Sara replied, trying not to sigh too heavily. "Hazard of the lifestyle," she added jokingly.

"I don't suppose you'd like to go with me?" Franz asked, turning his head as he walked so he could look her in the eyes. "You know, show me the ropes; keep me from doing something completely embarrassing?"

The question caught her off guard. "Me?" she blinked, several times in fact, and stopped walking. Her Dad had mentioned this one; something about a visiting dignitary from Aerugo or some such.

"Yeah sure," Franz shrugged, stopping as well. "Why not? You've been to them before and I'd much rather be escorting a pretty girl I know. I'm not sure I trust the other guys in the office to _find me_ someone," he chuckled.

He offered it all casual, so naturally. Sara had begged off of dinners as much as she could get away with it when she had gotten old enough to stay home or do something else. Still, she and Maes Mustang had been all that kept each other sane at some of them, and often she had gone when she was younger just to help keep _him_ from dying of boredom! Even now, when his father wasn't currently President, there were still some social pressures that could not be ignored.

Of course, now, every girl his age – Maes was almost sixteen – and up a few years wanted a shot at her rather dashing young friend. Maes was a sweet guy, and a great alchemist, but he was turning into a bit of a flirt. If he was going next week he hadn't mentioned it, but he probably had a date picked out _well_ ahead of time.

And Sara was okay with that. "Sure, why not?" she smiled, accepting the offer. "I'd much rather go with you than tag along with my folks."

"I thought you usually went with Mustang? The younger one," Franz clarified.

Sara chuckled. "It's kind of like going to a party with your younger sibling," she answered. "The conversation's okay, but it's not all that exciting."

"Escorting you would definitely be better than taking my little sister," Franz agreed. "I'm glad you said yes."

"It may be the first time I have any fun," Sara smiled. This did leave her with one little problem though; where the heck was she going to find an appropriate dress?

* * *

Dinner went well to Sara's relief. Franz was easy going and as she had expected, her father and he had gotten along almost at once; or at least, reasonably well. There were still some formalities that had to be considered. Damn the military sometimes! Dealing with differing ranks was a pain even though she was used to it. Of course, up till now, for her personally it had never mattered very much. When she became a State Alchemist she would have to take more care how she spoke to some of her father's friends, at least on duty.

"You're right," Franz chuckled to Sara when they were finished. "That is _amazing _pie." Sara hoped he thought so, he had eaten _three_ slices.

"Well thank you," Winry smiled.

Sara grinned at him. "You're welcome to take some home. We made plenty."

"I'll have to do that then, thanks," Franz smiled. "It will make my roommates insanely jealous."

Edward chuckled. "I've heard that homemade pie has caused a riot or two in the dorms over the years." Sara had the feeling her Dad wasn't joking either.

"I'd be happy to test that theory and risk the possibility," Franz smiled. "It's worth it!"

Sara saw Franz to the door when it was over, a wrapped pie in hand, following him out briefly onto the front porch.

"That was fun," Franz smiled. "Thanks for having me. Your family is great, like in your letters."

"I'm glad Aldon and Ethan didn't drive you crazy," Sara smiled back. Her brothers had been pretty talkative until they had finished their dessert and vanished into Aldon's cellar workshop.

"Nah, my sister was the same at their ages," Franz chuckled. "Well, close enough. I should get going. Don't forget about next week."

"I won't," Sara promised. How could she? The State dinner had come out in casual conversation during the meal, and she had seen her parents exchange glances when she informed them she was going. "See you around before then though, right?"

Franz laughed, giving her a brief hug before he headed down the steps. "Of course. We still have tons of catching up to do!"

Sara watched him go then turned and headed back inside.

Her parents were still seated at the table; Winry finishing her tea, and Edward his last slice of pie.

"So?" she asked, not bothering to sit back down. _Might as well get this over with. _

"So?" Ed repeated it back, looking up at her with a questioning expression.

Winry, however, seemed to get what she meant. "You're right, Sara," she smiled. "He's a nice guy and clearly a caring friend."

"So why do you look like you're evaluating him?" Sara asked; not accusing, but matter of fact.

"You're going to the Dinner together," her Dad shrugged. "You told me last week… what was it now? Oh yeah. That you thought those things were _dull as rusted knives and not worth your time_. _If you wanted to deal with social butterflies you'd go lie in the park_." The amusement in his sardonic tone was not lost on her.

"We're going as friends," Sara reminded him. "I'm just going to keep him from making any obvious social _faux pas_ before he gets the feel for how things work around here." She knew what they had to be thinking. She was no expert on social graces herself, but she wasn't completely inept! She had grown up around it and in it and she knew the ebb and flow of how things worked even if she wasn't an expert in every current dance, or enjoyed making small talk. Fortunately, they didn't contradict her. "He's not used to dealing with things on that level."

Her father, at least, seemed to understand. He nodded and grinned at Winry. "You remember our first State Dinner?"

Winry rolled her eyes, but chuckled. "I spent half the night stepping on your foot to keep you from putting it in your mouth."

Sara chuckled. "See! I should use the talents I get from Mom to work as much as the ones I get from you shouldn't I?"

"Are you saying I'm not diplomatic enough?" Edward pretended to look hurt.

In unison, Winry and Sara smirked. "Yes!"

* * *

Edward enjoyed the feel of his wife's fingers as they ran lightly down the length of his torso under the sheets. It always amazed him how her hands could be so gentle, given the number of times he had been smacked upside the head with them or the tools in them. But they were a mechanic's hands; a healer's hands, expert at soothing pains and fine tuning auto-mail alike, caressing fevered faces and easing the stresses of the day with _incredible_ massages.

Or, like now – which Ed felt no guilt in admitting was probably his favorite use – they enticed and excited! A pleasantly wicked feeling when he was already spent from an evening's sexual exertions. Despite the fact that Ed knew his own stamina in such things was more than most guys – information garnered from too many very strange conversations over drinks over the years – he couldn't keep up with Winry. It was entirely unfair that women could go longer! While Ed was sure it had something to do with reproduction and survival of the species, he didn't much care about the logic at this point.

Even when he had nothing left though, Winry seemed to enjoy teasing him as they cuddled in bed, as they did fairly often, and discussed anything that needed to be talked about. Talking always came _after_ though, that was the rule!

"I'm not sure how I feel about the whole situation," Winry sighed.

Ed nodded. "I know Sara's eighteen, but she's getting attention faster than I like. I'm glad none of it's from her classmates, honestly, but I wonder if the fact that they're hard on her is part of this." He hated that they treated her the way they did because she was his daughter, but there was little to be done about it. Sara was tough and she was dealing with it okay. She had certainly been through worse.

Winry shook her head. "I don't think so. It's two different sets of frustrations. I believe her when she said that inviting Franz over tonight was unrelated to Mars leaving. But I'm not entirely sure that Franz's motives are as unrelated as Sara thinks."

"You think so?" Ed hoped Winry might have a little more insight than he did. The young Second Lieutenant was polite, amusing, and very easy to get along with. Ed hadn't really remembered him from Xing, but he had been pretty out of it for a lot of that time. He had seen the boy but they hadn't talked. Franz had been communicating with Sara for years though. "You don't just think they're good friends like Sara claims?"

"Oh they are that," Winry chuckled. "And I do think Franz is a nice boy. I doubt he has any ill intentions, but Sara, as you pointed out, _is_ eighteen. She's not a little girl anymore and I think Franz would be blind not to notice that fact."

"Or castrated," Ed grumbled.

"Don't you dare," Winry jabbed him in the side with one finger. "Still, we just have to get used to the fact that she's not a kid anymore and men are noticing."

"Boys too," Ed sighed, though he chuckled. "I don't think she's noticed that Maes is crushing on her pretty hard too."

"That flirt?" Winry asked skeptically.

"He's in denial," Ed countered confidently.

"You know a lot about that, don't you?" Winry teased, her hand taking up where it had left off, tracing little circles along his waistline.

Ed shuddered slightly and stiffened. "Sure do," he got out anyway, smirking. "It's hard to admit your best female friend since childhood is sexually attractive."

"Unless you're the one who got to her first?"

Ed's eyes bulged as Winry's finger slipped lightly down the sensitive line of skin where the inner thigh met the hip, stopping just shy of what it promised. "I…oh god…Winry!"

She laughed; her finger running back up the line to the point of the hip.

"You're a cruel woman," Ed whimpered. "That's not fair!"

"I thought you said you were done," Winry smirked.

"This is torture!"

"Is it?" Winry stretched out, her chest pressed into his arm as she nuzzled his neck playfully. "I wouldn't know."

All right, so compared to the real thing it was _ecstasy_…but Ed's statement still stood! "I thought we were trying to have a serious conversation here?"

Winry sighed, relaxing a little so she was just snuggled up against him. "This from the man who once stopped everything cold because he had a stroke of alchemical inspiration in the middle of foreplay."

"What can I say," Ed smiled at her. "You're inspirational."

"And I don't think you're as tired as you claim you are," Winry moved just slightly, but half the muscles in Ed's body twitched involuntarily.

It was so damned hard to concentrate when she toyed with him like this! What made it worse was the completely masochistic part of him that_ liked_ it. Ed suspected that even if he were dead, Winry could probably get a rise out of his corpse. "You just underestimate yourself," he smirked, his voice sounding as tight as he felt.

"You know," Winry commented thoughtfully, ignoring his statement. "It's funny, Mars, Franz, Maes; they all have one thing in common."

"They want my daughter," Ed shrugged. That seemed obvious enough. At the moment, he was losing patience with the conversation, fast!

She rolled a little and looked at him. "Well two things really; eyes and hair; your daughter seems to attract brunets." Well really, Maes' hair was as black as his father's, but dark counted in this case.

"And they her," Ed grumbled, though it was hard to grouse when Winry stretched out again and kissed his neck, her nose nuzzling the ticklish spot by his ear. "And what do you prefer?" Ed asked, voice husky as he turned to face her, running a hand down the smooth plane of her back.

Winry smiled, fingering his long bangs with one hand as she met his gaze. Her own expression was amused more than anything else; with a touch of _I win again_ in her eyes. "I like men with long, blond hair, expressive golden eyes, and top-of-the-line auto-mail limbs."

"I'm so lucky you aren't picky," Ed teased, pressing his mouth to hers as he pulled her against him, hard; effectively ending any attempts at conversation for the rest of the night.

**May 22****nd****, 1945 **

The State dinner turned out to be a lot more fun than Sara had ever imagined. First, it was nice to be there with a friend other than Maes Mustang; it was more of a real date that way, even if it was another _friend._ She had caved and, instead of raiding her mother's closet, let a couple of her girl friends take her shopping. A mildly terrifying experience, but she thought the final result might_ actually_ be worth it. The dress was twilight blue with just a hint of lavender to it, thick straps but no sleeves, and a nice v-neck; reasonably fitted until the skirt flared from the hips and stopped just below the knees. Somehow they had talked her into finding shoes that matched – necessary really, given all she owned were sneakers, boots, and a couple of pairs of general slip on shoes – and a simple gold necklace seemed enough jewelry to her. Her hair was up; twisted in with the scarf that Franz had sent her for her fifteenth birthday which matched the dress beautifully.

Sara slipped downstairs and headed for the door. She was going to meet Franz before hand so they could discuss that evening's festivities a little more. He really was nervous about making a good impression with the Brass. Or at least, not making a complete fool of himself.  
"You didn't think you were going to slip out without giving me a chance to compliment you did you?" Her father's voice came from behind her.

Sara froze then turned to see him standing on the stairs, smiling. "It didn't occur to me," she replied. Actually, she had sort of been hoping he wouldn't see her until they were already all at the dinner. It was kind of embarrassing to be all dressed up like this! She looked like a woman in the mirror, but she _felt _like a done up kid.

"Right," Ed chuckled, but the smile was kind. "You look beautiful. I look forward to shooting glowering looks at all those single officers in the place tonight."

Sara snorted, trying not to let her unease show, though she was surprisingly pleased by the compliment. Of course, even now her father's approval meant more to her than most. If he approved, it really _meant_ something. "Thanks, Dad. Just don't glare too much okay?" She smiled back. "You might ruin _Mom's_ fun."

"All right," he replied, nodding. "You have a point. Just a few evil looks to make the point then."

"Good," Sara grinned wickedly. "See you later!" Then she turned and headed out the door. She met up with Franz in one of the parks not far from the house, though she almost died on the spot when she saw the surprise on Franz's face. This was a uniform event, and it was the first time she'd seen him in full dress herself; damn he looked good! She realized her face was warm as he came up to her smiling.

"Sara! You look incredible," he grinned. "I knew there was a woman somewhere under all that alchemy."

It took her a moment to realize that he was trying to put her at ease while complimenting her. Sara chuckled. "And there's really an officer in there too," she tapped lightly on his uniform as if knocking on a door. "Won't we make a pair? No one will have any idea who we are!"

They chatted until a friend of his brought a car and they all rode to the dinner together. It had been nearly a year since Sara hadwillingly gone to one of these things, and she was surprised at how many faces she knew and was actually friends with now among the military. A lot of them were her parents' friends of course, but that made them like family. It was very different from being one of the 'kids' at a formal function. For once thing, her Dad had been right; she kept getting stared at. Not just a few very surprised, and often appreciative, glances from the men, but some startled looks that weren't at all friendly from some of the girls either. Suddenly, she wished for the familiar security of pants and a shirt.

"Relax," she heard Franz whisper beside her as they walked in, her on his arm. "You're cutting off my circulation."

"Sorry," she replied just as softly, feeling embarrassed.

"It's all right," Franz chuckled. "But I'm the one who's supposed to be scared here remember? If these guys all know you, than they're just acknowledging something they already knew; you're a classy, beautiful woman. The girls are probably just jealous that not only are you smarter, more talented, and a better fighter than any of them, but you're drawing the attention from their men as well."

"You say it so casually," Sara sighed. "That wasn't my plan after all." A couple of the girls here tonight with younger officers were in her alchemy classes too. This wasn't helping her image really. Well, what did she care about _that_ anyway? Mentally squaring herself, she made herself relax and keep smiling. "Let's have fun."

"That's the spirit," Franz smiled back.

It turned out to be a very good night. Sara didn't mind sitting at a lower table away from her folks, who were – as usual – stuck at one of the tables with the actual dignitary from Aerugo and his wife, President Breda and his wife Nancy, and Roy and Riza Mustang. She noticed that Maes wasn't seated with them; though she spotted him not that far away, seated next to a couple of pretty young women, naturally. One of them was the Aerugean ambassador to Central's daughter, Elena Albaracan, That boy was really getting incorrigible as he got older! She was glad Aldon hadn't turned into that bad of a flirt, and hoped her own brothers –both of them- never did! She had actually complained about it to her father once who had just shrugged, chuckled, and said that well some boys were just like that, and given that Maes' father had been a_ horrendous_ flirt in his hey day, it wasn't really that surprising. The look on his face at the time had made her think he wanted to say more, but that had been the end of it.

After dinner there was, as always, dancing. Sara was glad when the band seemed to have picked some more upbeat pieces tonight. While waltzing was all right, she was actually a little more comfortable with the faster numbers just because they reminded her a little more of the speed at which she and her father fought. She was much better when she was moving too fast to over-think the steps. It also meant she didn't have to think too much about anything else. She wasn't great, but Mars had taught her how, and right now she was more than a little grateful to have someplace to use that particular skill.

"You're pretty good," Franz laughed as he spun her back in to him during one move then led her into a turn. "I didn't know you could dance, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised given how well you fight!"

Sara blushed a little at the compliment. "Thanks. You're surprisingly good at this too," she replied.

"Nothing much else to do on a Friday night at Eastern Command," Franz grinned, but she suspected he was at least partially kidding.

"I'm sure Bors was a great teacher," Sara kidded back, smirking. She was having a really good time!

* * *

Edward caught the first notes as one of the faster numbers started up, and grabbed Winry's hand as she started to walk off, likely to talk to someone. "Hey, where do you think you're going?" he asked, pulling her back toward him.

"Assemblyman Gaines had a question about the current price of auto-mail," Winry shrugged. "I thought I'd get that out of the way."

"Gaines can wait," Ed snorted, stepping in closer. "Tell me, pretty lady, would you like to dance?"

Winry blinked, surprised, which only made Ed grin wider. He loved catching his wife off guard. She looked out at the dance floor. "It's a fast number," she pointed out.

"I noticed," Ed replied softly. Outside of their one rather uncomfortable misadventure in Aerugo last year, Ed had never done more than the requisite waltzes at a formal affair like this. Winry had been annoyed with him at the time for never admitting he could really _dance _until then. "But I'm asking you, the most beautiful woman in the place, if you would do me the honor of dancing with me?"

Winry's face blushed with pleasure as she smiled at him. "You'd better not make too poor a showing," she joked as she turned and almost dragged him onto the dance floor. Ed kept up, and more hoped that his friends would not tease him about this for the rest of his life!

* * *

"Hey, is that your folks?" Franz asked, a little startled, though he never lost the beat as he looked behind Sara. "They're good!"

"What?" Sara turned, and almost hurt her neck it whipped around too fast as she tried to catch a glimpse. Her parents were on the dance floor _now_? While she knew her folks were hardly conventional or dull, her father never did like dancing.

But there they were, as swinging as any other couple in the place, and they looked like they were having far too much fun. "I didn't know Dad _knew_ those steps!" she gasped.

"Apparently there really isn't anything he can't do," Franz grinned at her, and then she was spinning again and had to focus on her own partner to keep from getting dizzy! "And now I know where you get that natural talent from."

The night was just full of surprises. Sara danced with Franz several times, though Maes did ask her to dance once, and a few of the other officers she knew who were her age or a few years older that she had known a while danced with her as well. None of them leered or commented in any way inappropriate; though a few joked! She could deal with that, and she eventually relaxed and ignored – and almost started to enjoy – the looks she was getting from her female classmates, the ones she had spotted anyway. One or two of the guys had wrangled invitations in some way as well, but she noticed neither of them asked her to dance. Cal Fisher was much too wrapped up in the girls who were practically fawning over him.

"Thanks for coming with me," Franz said later as they stood outside in the cool evening air, waiting for his friend to come around with the car. "I really appreciate it. Those tips were a real help."

"You would have been fine without me," Sara chuckled. "You're a complete gentleman and a great dancer. You've never had any problems being conversational either."

"With people I'm comfortable around," Franz countered with a smile that was pleased. "I know I'm a bit of a nerd, but it doesn't bother me. I just wanted to make sure I knew what was going on and," he added with a slightly bigger grin that looked more like one of her father's, "I got to be the guy who managed to wrangle Sara Elric into showing up and showing off the way she should."

Sara's face went red. "What do you mean?" she asked, mentally kicking herself at how strangled her voice sounded. Even behind his glasses –if not accented because of them- that confident grin was just too damned _attractive_. She was supposed to be over that crush!

"You forget I've been reading the letters you sent me," Franz laughed, then looked a little embarrassed himself; totally back to what Sara considered normal. "You don't see yourself the way other people do. You intimidate the hell out of most girls because you're not like them. You're more confident, more driven, and you don't go around drooling over accessories or other meaningless drivel. You intimidate men too for a lot of the same reasons. You're an unknown quantity to them; but that's what makes you special. You're you, no matter what anyone else damn well thinks."

Well, the last bit was right. Sara had never changed herself for _anybody_. Not unless it was a conscious decision to make a necessary change in the way she did something. "So what does that have to do with showing me off?"

"You seem to forget sometimes that you're still a pretty girl too," Franz continued with a casual shrug. "That's what drives people crazy I think. You don't acknowledge that fact. You don't seem to care at all. But," he smiled as he got to his point. "As annoyed as some of them may be with you tonight for outshining them, it gives them a little more _you_ that they can at least understand and quantify."

"So showing them up will actually help me deal with them?" That didn't make any sense.

Franz sighed, chuckled, and gave her a one-armed side hug; a quick squeeze. "It made you a little more human, a little less _the Fullmetal Alchemist's daughter,_ less the _heroine of the Battle of the Eastern Pass_. Now they can at least see you as a beautiful woman. For them, that's probably much easier to deal with."

He said it so easily, yet seemed to have no idea the effect his complimentary words had on her. Damn it. There was nothing overly romantic about it at all! But then, she hadn't been expecting anything like that, so why did it bug her? Stupid crush. They were friends, and that was all they would likely ever be. He was just that sweet. "I guess that makes sense," Sara admitted after a few moments. Titles and deeds had never impressed her, not given her family's usually traveled circles. She knew full well that they were all just men and women who worked hard at jobs other people didn't want, or weren't cut out for. She never really bothered to look at it from the outside perspective; even regular soldiers saw them in a light that was different from what Franz was describing.

**May 26****th****, 1945**

Edward was glad that Winry had decided that_ family auto-mail adjustment day _was best done at home. It wasn't something he enjoyed, ever, but it needed doing if he wanted to keep his arm and leg in top condition. And Ethan grew so fast that every few months his fingers needed adjustment to keep up with the rest of his hand. It was most painful for his youngest son when the ports themselves needed adjusting to match his growing body, but that was minor surgery that actually got done in the hospital. Today wasn't one of those, and Ed was glad. Though they had both spent the morning missing body parts, the afternoon was the trying part. Winry had asked Elicia over to help with docking Ed's limbs – both at the same time were just easier than multiple shocks to the system – and they'd had the forethought to do it on the couch in the living room so Ed didn't have to _move_ afterwards.

So now he sagged against the back of the couch, his legs propped up on the footstool, with Ethan cuddled up against his left side, where his good arm was around the boy. The radio was on, and Ed listened easily to the mystery program that was currently on the air, Ethan looking just as interested, as they chowed-down on homemade chocolate chip cookies!

It was a strange kinship to feel with the boy – a shared part of their lives that Ed wished, more than anything, he could have spared his son. Not that Ethan seemed to mind, except on days like today when his hand ached for hours – sometimes a day or two if it was a major adjustment – afterwards. Still, he complained surprisingly little and he never really cried.

"Can I get you boys anything else?" Winry smiled as she leaned over the couch from the back. "Another cookie? More milk?" she added the last with a grin.

"Yes please!" Ethan replied with some enthusiasm. "To both."

"Edward?"

"Cookies, yes. I'd rather sniff Mustang's old socks than drink milk and you know it." It was more a protest out of habit than anything else. On occasion now, he'd drink that junk; if only to keep his wife and physician off his case! He much preferred his dairy in other forms; like melted over something as cheese, or in a chocolate milkshake. Adding flavors always helped.

"So one milk, one juice, and the rest of the cookie jar," Winry teased. "Got it."

She knew him too well. Ed closed his eyes. He could get up if he had to. Hell, he could probably have fought off almost anyone if he _had_ to, but really he just wanted to lay here until the pain went away. As he sat there, studiously not moving, the radio show ended for the day.

"Hey, Dad," Ethan spoke up into the quiet after a minute.

Ed opened his eyes and looked down at the boy. "Yeah?"

"Aunt Elicia said that you never cry when they reattach your auto-mail," he said slowly, as if he wasn't sure he should be asking. "You didn't today, but it had to hurt a lot. So why not?"

"Well that's an interesting question," Ed chuckled softly. "A bit of a story too. The first time, when your Mom and great-grandmother first did the surgery, I refused because I knew that Alphonse had to be suffering more than I was because of our mistakes." All of his children, at one time or another, had heard the story of their mistake. At least he didn't have to explain that again. "I wasn't going to cry just because I lost a couple of limbs, when it had cost him his whole body. After that, it was more just a matter of stubborn pride and," he shrugged, "Because really, there are things that hurt a whole lot more in this world than re-attaching auto-mail; and almost all of them are things that hurt us on the inside, not our bodies." His youngest son did not need to know any more than he already did about painful ways to hurt the human body.

"That makes sense," Ethan nodded. "I wish it didn't hurt so much."

"Me too," Ed smiled. "But it could be a lot worse, so we should be grateful for that. Your Mom's the best mechanic anyone could have."

"Not that you're biased or anything," Winry smiled as she came back out with a tray, setting it down on the coffee table.

"Mechanic and angel," Ed's grin widened. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to feed me?" He opened his mouth wide.

"You big baby," Winry rolled her eyes. "You can feed yourself." As if to make the point she stuffed two cookies in his mouth.

Ethan giggled and then took the glass of milk his mother held out to him with his left hand. "Thank you, Mom."

"Such a polite gentleman," Winry ruffled his hair with her hand. "You certainly don't get it from your father."

Ed tried to object, but his mouth was still full. He gulped the two cookies into his mouth and chewed so he could swallow. "Hey!" he finally managed around the mouthful.

"See what I mean?" Winry laughed.

Ethan giggled, but cringed a little when he jostled his sore hand. "Dad can be polite!" he defended him. "When he wants to."

"Now there's an endorsement," Ed laughed, trying not to wince when it moved his limbs.

"Aren't you a pair," Winry smiled warmly. "Just relax a little longer. Aldon and Sara will probably be home soon and it's their turn to make dinner tonight."

"Good, I'm starving," Ethan grinned.

"I think I'm the only one around here who isn't most of the time," Winry shook her head as she headed towards her workshop. "Just whimper if you need anything."

"Very funny!" Ed retorted as she vanished.

Ethan finished his cookie and set the empty milk cup down. Then he leaned into his father's side again. "I'm glad Mom's my mechanic too. I bet most people don't get cookies."

"Probably not," Ed agreed. It was nice when simple pleasures could still make people happy.

"Dad," Ethan looked up at him again. "I know you can't do alchemy on people. I mean, without hurting them, but you can do alchemy on auto-mail right?"

"Yes," Ed nodded. Where was this going? "You're full of questions today."

Ethan gave one short nod. "Well, I was just wondering if there was a way to make auto-mail more comfortable for people by using alchemy. Better ways to protect the skin around it from frostbite or heat maybe? Things like that."

"It's possible," Ed replied with a slight shrug. "But not easy. There's not a lot of research into that kind of application of alchemy. Xing's style of alchemy is based in medicine though, so there might be something there." Alphonse had read up on that more than he had, but there wasn't a lot of it in translation to read. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well..." Now the boy looked slightly embarrassed. Ed just watched as his youngest gathered himself, obviously wanting to say something he considered very important. "I wanted to know because I want to learn how; and figure it out if I have to."

"You want to learn alchemy?"

Ethan nodded. "But not just alchemy. I mean, I want to learn more about auto-mail too, and about medicine. I want to be a doctor, and I want to figure out how to help lots of people, not just people like me and you, but maybe there are better ways to treat things than we have now, and maybe I can do that."

The immense dreams and ideas that came out of young mouths as absolutely sure statements startled Ed sometimes. It always took him a moment to remember the same kinds of phrases coming easily out of the mouths of himself and his brother. He was reminded of just how different each person was; how they chose their own paths, and grew at different rates. Ethan may be the youngest, but he was certainly no longer the baby. "That's one heck of a goal," Ed smiled, chuckling when Ethan looked worried, "And a very worthy one."

"So, you'll teach me?" Ethan asked again, wanting to make sure he had understood.

Ed nodded. "Of course I will, if that's what you want. It's a lot of hard work though." Ethan had seen Ed and Sara work; surely he had some idea of what was involved.

As expected, the boy nodded. "I know, and I promise I'll work really hard!"

Ed chuckled, and gave his son a hug. "I'm sure you will." He was sure that he would succeed too.

**September 21****st****, 1945**

The entire summer seemed to pass in a bit of a blur for Sara. She spent all day in her classes and – taking Franz's advice – she tried to be a little more ordinary. It was funny how just putting her hair up in something a little less utilitarian had an effect. She spoke up a little less often, and while she wasn't popular or even really accepted, there was less hostility. In the evenings she studied, or sometimes did alchemy with Maes Mustang, or did things with the family.

Sara spent a lot of time with Franz too. He proved even better as a conversationalist still than he was as a pen pal, and they had more in common now than when she had been fourteen. She met some of his friends and his roommates, and started going out with them all as a group some nights. It was fun. Her parents seemed a little bothered at first, but they never said anything, and she appreciated that. It had to be hard to let someone you loved go off on their own more. She was sure she'd be protective of Aldon and Ethan in the same situations! Her cousins too, who spent a lot of time over during the summer. Alyse and Ethan were almost the same age, being barely six months apart, and played around a lot just themselves, or with a few friends from the neighborhood over in the back yard. Will usually spent time with Aldon and they would vanish into Aldon's cellar workshop for hours. Sara had no idea what they did down there amongst Aldon's inventions and piles of scrap parts, but she wasn't entirely sure she _wanted_ to know sometimes either. Summer was a busy time for birthdays too; Ethan turned nine, Will turned eleven, and soon enough, Aldon would be turning _fifteen_!

Before she knew it, it was September. Aldon, Ethan, Will, and Alyse all went back to school. Aldon's fifteenth birthday came and went. For Sara, classes continued as usual and, finally, she _actually_ received a letter from Mars Leighton!

It was a fairly long letter – three pages – going on in detail about his summer in Pylos, new friends, and the University, as well as the time he'd spent visiting his aunt in the Capitol. It was a happy, informative letter, and Sara was glad to have received it. She had written him three over the summer with no reply until that point. The well-chastised sounding apology at the beginning was enough to satisfy her though.

Sara understood busy. Classes were getting more intense and taking up more of her time and energy. They had their half-way mark evaluations, and it was one of the most stressful periods she had ever gone through as a student. Despite the fact that she had known eighty percent of the material going into the class, that didn't mean the other people in her class knew nothing, or were slouches. She didn't necessarily want to show off, but if she put in a poor showing it would be recorded.

Written tests went well, she thought, though there were several questions on there that she knew they had never gotten definitive answers to in class; but that was the point. Several of them were scenarios for how to handle situations. In lab, she mixed components and transmuted all sorts of things that required anal-retentive amounts of detail. There was no slap and dash _do it and if it works it was good enough_ like the stuff her father actually excelled at, and what Sara had done on the battlefield. Effective wasn't good enough. It had to be done properly and with an efficient use of energy.

The evaluative fights were something she was dreading, and looking forward to at the same time. Those were still done against Uncle Al and her Dad, even though a lot of the general drilling had been passed on to other alchemists. What she would really love to pull off, in either instance, was a tie. Sara knew that now, despite how much better she had gotten in the last couple of years, her chances of beating either the Fullmetal Alchemist or the True Soul Alchemist in an all out fight –with or without alchemy- was pretty small. Both of them still had a perfect record when it came to combat against their students in these matches; Sara's practice matches with her father didn't count for much here as far as that went, and he was long since back in top form after the war with Xing.

No one had tied them either. Sara would be thrilled to manage that much. It was weird though, to be anticipating what amounted to nothing but a glorified public sparring match against the two men who had trained her to fight in the first place, who still worked with her on the weekends for _fun._

Sara found herself in the middle of the order when it finally came time for the matches. She stretched out, waited, and watched the others with interest. There were a couple of really good fighters in her class, and she watched them both go up against Dad, and lose, then Uncle Al and lose again, sometimes even worse! Most of them held out for a couple of minutes if that.

"Sara Elric," Armstrong bellowed finally. "You're up."

She would be fighting her father first, and he was already warmed up. She had no illusions that he might be tired or winded yet. Half an hour into evaluations and he'd barely had the workouts they put in together on a regular basis; not even that much. She nodded respectfully to him as she got into position. She still felt tense so she tried to relax just a little. This was no big deal. No more than any other match. Really.

From that moment, she was in trouble. She might know all of her father's favorite tricks and most of his moves, but he knew _all _of hers, and he didn't hesitate; not once. Sara spent four minutes on the defensive before she managed to strike back out at him with an offensive kick that he blocked easily, turning it into a chance to bring her to the ground. Though she twisted and broke free, rolling and coming back up just in time to defend against a series of kicks and punches that drove her back towards the edge of the marked area.

She had to stay inside that too, but that was the easier part. She had never been pushed out of where she wanted to be fighting her Dad; at least, not in over two years. But she was getting frustrated. Sara preferred the offensive, even when she was defending technically, and the Fullmetal Alchemist was taking advantage of that fact, not letting her get into a good offensive posture or get off _any_ of her better moves. She tried to break out of the barrage he pressed on her. He had never done this to her before and, she realized, this was the real test. Could she handle something totally new and get out of it?

Damn it! She rolled back, dropped to the ground as he came over her, and saw him over-extend just slightly as she did something she'd never tried before, and her feet shot for his legs.

It almost worked, but her opponent was just that good. He leapt forward, rolling right over her body as she went to stand, landing on one hand and flipping up onto his feet, going directly into a spin that brought his foot into perfect connection with the side of her head as Sara came up again. She felt pain, saw stars, and knew she'd lost as she slammed into the pavement. Her vision blurred briefly and she didn't try to get up. She was beaten and she knew it. "Give!" she announced, hoping it was loud enough for her father to hear.

No other blows landed. It was so quiet for a moment that Sara wondered if she'd gone deaf; except for the ringing in her ears. She opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and forced herself to her hands and knees. No, she was all right. She'd had worse certainly. He caught her off guard with that last move. A hand appeared in front of her face and she looked up into her father's golden gaze. "That hurt," she said softly, forcing a smile to her face.

"I'm sure it did," he replied as she took his offer of a hand up then dusted herself off. "You need to learn to break your defensive patterns. After the first minute, I could tell what you were going to do in response to any given move I might throw at you. Any good opponent could have."

"All right." She nodded slowly, accepting the constructive criticism for what it was. "Thanks." Fortunately, she got a couple of minutes break before the guy ahead of her finished with Uncle Al. Sara was starting to feel the effects more fully from her father's kick; the whole fight really. She was more winded than she expected too. How long had the fight lasted? Either way, it had been more intense than she had been prepared for. Did her father really hold back during their fights at home still? For some reason, that thought bothered her.

Her fight with Alphonse was definitely shorter, but a little more straightforward. He was more intense too though; and while his fighting style was not as flashy and, well, _bouncy_ as her Dad's very energetic style, it was more efficient and he was more than happy to defend for hours. Getting past his defense was just as difficult as getting past her father's offense! Still, he only defended until he saw an opening, and then he would take it. Sara gave sooner than she would have if not for fighting her father first, and kept herself stubbornly upright when she called it, walking back to the rest of the class. She did not notice who offered her a water bottle, which she promptly drained. Somehow a towel also got into her hands, and she wiped her face and shoulders with it before collapsing on the ground near a couple of the others who had already fought. They looked as tired as she felt.

* * *

"That was the most embarrassing fight ever," Sara admitted to her mother later that evening after she got home, a little before dinner. She had gone straight home afterwards and taken a long hot, soaking bath, then washed her hair and curled up in her most comfortable pajamas. Now she sat with her head resting on her crossed arms on the dining room table, and she stared at the steaming cup of hot chocolate her mother had just placed in front of her. "I don't mind losing, but I _really_ should have seen that coming. And then my fight with Uncle Al was so short!"

"Everyone has difficult days," Winry smiled patiently. "I'm sure you did just fine, really. It sounds like you got nervous and tightened up a little. That can make a big difference in performance."

She spoke with an authority that Sara realized came from the fact that the reaction was natural in most situations, not just fighting. Mom didn't have to be a fighter to understand what that would do for someone's fighting either; not married to Dad. It was a statement that applied to life. "Yeah," she sighed. "That was my first problem. I really thought I had a chance today, at least to put in a good showing if nothing else. All I got out of it was a splitting headache." It was still there, though now it was a dull pounding.

"Hey." It was a measure of how tired she was, and how loud her head was pounding, that Sara hadn't even heard her father come into the house. She looked up at him, wondering how much he'd heard. "Can we talk?" he asked.

Sara shrugged. "Sure." They talked all the time, though she wasn't looking forward to facing him after her poor showing earlier.

Winry got up and went into the kitchen as Dad sat down. "I wanted to tell you I'm really proud of how well you handled yourself today."

"Wait…what?" Sara wasn't sure she'd heard right. "You kicked my butt! Or rather, my head."

"Yeah, sorry about that." He actually looked embarrassed. "I placed that kick pretty poorly."

"It worked," Sara countered, frowning. "I'm not sure I'd call that poorly."

"Effective isn't necessarily well-done," Ed came back. "Especially not with something that needs to be that precise. More than an inch off and that's a killing shot."

Sara swallowed, feeling foolish. She actually knew that. "So you're apologizing for nearly knocking me out in front of everyone today?" What was he getting at? Her head was still pounding, and she wasn't entirely sure she understood where he was going with this line of discussion.

Ed shook his head. "On the contrary. Well, I_ am_ apologizing for the sloppy footwork," he smiled. "But I really am proud of how well you did today."

"I lost." Sara decided that maybe drinking the hot chocolate before it got cold was preferable to giving in to the ridiculously girly urge to cry that was coming over her. She sipped it slowly.

"Sara, do you have any idea how long our bout was?" He asked softly.

"No," she replied after a moment.

"Fifteen minutes."

Sara almost sprayed hot liquid all over the living room. "You're kidding me!" The longest fight she'd seen all day was _five_! Not that she noticed the time of her own fights all the time, but _usually_ she was a better judge.

But Ed was shaking his head, and grinning. "No I'm not. Sure you had some trouble and there's plenty to work on, but you didn't go down easily. You lasted against Al for nearly six minutes after that too."

Sara was sure her mind was going to blow here somewhere. "So I didn't abysmally fail this evaluation?"

"No, you passed with flying colors," he chuckled. "Impressed a few folks too."

"Like who?" Sara asked.

He shrugged as Winry came back and put a steaming cup in front of him as well. "A few of your classmates apparently. How else do you think you got water and a towel without reaching for them?"

Sara barely remembered what happened between leaving her fight with Al and crashing on the ground, or even really after that until getting home. "I was kind of out of it," she admitted.

"That's as much my fault as yours," he said. "Thanks, Winry," he smiled as she headed out of the room. Sara could hear her footsteps on the stairs. As soon as she was gone he stood up and vanished into the kitchen. When he returned, he was grinning wickedly. "Don't ever tell your mother I did this, or she'll kill us both." With that he pulled out a small bottle, adding just a splash to his own cup. "Want a little?"

Okay, this conversation had officially gone from bizarre tofreaky. Was her father actually offering to _spike_ her hot chocolate? "Are you the real Edward Elric?" she asked, only half-way sarcastic.

"Relax, kiddo," he chuckled. "I'm not suggesting anything more than a little flavor and something to take the edge off that headache. I'm sure it hurts like hell. I've been smacked there enough."

And now she was kiddo again, at eighteen. Having conversations with Dad was just always going to be a little weird, she suspected. Still, he would never have offered anything of the sort when she was just a kid. "Sure, I guess. What is it?"

"A word of advice," Dad laughed, "Ask before you agree to things in the future. It's just amaretto."

Sara sighed. "And it would be more gentlemanly if you told me what it was when you offered it."

"This isn't the kind of thing gentlemen offer innocent young ladies," he chuckled, adding just a quick dollop to her mug.

Sara stirred it and took a sip. It was a really nice flavor with the chocolate and, while she knew he hadn't added a lot of alcohol to it, she felt the subtle change as her body reacted to it. By the time she finished the drink, her headache was a little less pronounced, and she was relaxing. "I am such a light-weight," she sighed.

"Personally, I consider that a good thing," Ed replied as he watched her. They had both finished their drinks in companionable silence. "As long as you know your limits, you're ahead of most." He stood up and returned the bottle to the kitchen.

Sara watched him go and come back. This was, she decided, just a very confusing age. She was an adult. She liked being treated like one, but there were moments like this where she was very glad that her parents were still willing to be motherly or fatherly, just less smothering and a little more like friends. "Dad, today's fight was different from the ones you and I usually have. I know when I was little you held back, but I thought we'd gotten past that point by now. How much have you been holding back on me?" She wasn't angry, or even annoyed, she just really wanted to know!

He paused, leaning in the kitchen doorway. "No more than with anyone else. So not more than I have to in order to not kill one of you." He shrugged. "I'm still learning new things too; it's an ongoing process. That also means new ways to exploit what I know about my opponents. I had an unfair advantage fighting you; the same one I have with Alphonse. I already have an idea of exactly what you know, as well as how you move, how you think, what you will and won't pull when it comes to certain tricks. I can tell you to go all out and hit me with _anything_ but there are things that I know you still wouldn't pull because of your fighting style, your attitudes, and what you're used to."

"Pushing me into my weakest position and basically holding me there was pretty effective," Sara admitted with a sigh, looking down into her empty mug. "If you could do it, other people could figure it out too. Will you show me how to break something like that?"

"I'll give you the chance to figure it out," he countered. "We can work on it, but there are some things you need to learn on your own."

"Yeah, you're right," Sara smiled then shrugged. "More hot chocolate?" she asked.

"Only straight," Ed chuckled, picking up both mugs.

"Well I figured that much," Sara rolled her eyes. Her father joked, and he sometimes acted like he was just one of the guys like anyone else in the military, but Sara knew that he wasn't, and never would be. She knew too well her father's mentality, and how careful he still was. Hell, she would always remember the rocky period during the early parts of his post-torture recovery. Sometimes she wondered if she worried about _him_ as much as he probably worried about her. "Thanks," she chuckled, "For the dose of perspective. I might even thank you for the headache sometime."

"That would be a first," Ed smiled as he walked to the counter and refilled their mugs from the steaming pot. "I think I can count on one hand, and not the whole thing, the number of times I've actually thanked someone for smacking me upside the head with something."

"Those sound like stories you haven't told me," Sara grinned.

"Actually I have," he replied. "Or at least, most of them. Those times were more like little details in the middle of bigger adventures."

"You know, we may be the only family I know who uses the word adventure to refer to past events in our lives and can actually mean it," Sara commented as her father came back and sat down again. She took her mug and sipped. "For most people, it's just a phrase."

Ed laughed. "You have a point. For us, it's just a way of life."

**September 22****nd****, 1945**

Edward called off their morning workout even though it was a Saturday. The evaluation matches were a lot of work and he knew Sara could use the day off as much as he could. She had gone to bed early the night before, though in a much better mood than when he had first arrived home. They hadn't talked any more about the fights, but there wasn't much Ed could have said without belaboring the point or making things more awkward for his daughter later. He_ had_ been impressed with her fights.

He had also noticed the looks on the faces of his other students after the first fight; and then the second. They all _knew _who Sara had learned from, but this was the first time they had actually seen Sara fight Ed and Al. They knew what their instructors were capable of from classes, but Ed had made a point of _not_ being the one to match up with his daughter in practice before this or have Al partner her. It wasn't necessary with her skills and it helped keep a distance. Sara needed to learn by dealing with lots of different opponents now, not fight the two men who had trained her.

The fights had left a definite impression on the rest of his students, and it was a lesson he hoped they all took to heart. Not that_ even Sara couldn't beat them,_ but that it was possible to find yourself in a fight that lasted fifteen minutes – if you were well matched enough – or possibly longer, and just how hard on anyone that was. No one else had lasted near that long and Sara had still lost both fights. There had been a little awe, but some new respect and understanding in their eyes. This Ed thought, was why he had not discouraged Sara from taking part in the State classes. Despite her knowledge there was a lot she was still learning, and a lot that the rest of the students were learning from her; often without either side of that equation realizing it.

Those were the thoughts on Ed's mind when he had gone to bed the night before. It was a lot to sleep on though, and he was glad to sleep in a little the next morning, not crawling out of bed until Winry did, which was _still_ before the kids. It turned out to be a fairly lazy morning over all. Well, at least for the Elric household! Aldon vanished into the cellar right after breakfast, Ethan went outside in the back yard to exhaust the dog, Winry went into her workshop, and Sara holed up in her room; a rare occurrence, but after the day before, Ed wasn't entirely surprised. Everyone needed to be alone sometimes. He could hear music playing upstairs, and the subtle sounds of movement around the room. It sounded like she might actually be cleaning it.

Ed settled himself down at the table, as he often did, with his alchemy books. With Ethan's expressed interest in the healing applications of alchemy, Ed figured he should probably look into that end of things in more depth. Knowing what was out there and what wasn't, and if there was anything new. So he had been slowly working his way through all the literature that the library had on it, in Amestris and otherwise. The books on Xing's use of alchemy were few but interesting. A lot of them were just direct translations of dubious quality. Still, it was enough to get an idea. It also gave him a very good idea of where _certain_ Xing alchemists had subverted their arts in interesting ways. Even now, it took effort on Ed's part to willingly read some of the stuff he was looking at. Thinking about what they had done had been something he had avoided considering in too much detail before, because it would have easily been something he could obsess over, and it only took him back to a place that mentally just _wasn't _a good place to let himself go.

He was getting past that though, slowly but surely. The last little hang-ups went away only with effort, but Ed had never been one to shy away from things that bothered him, and four years was a long time to avoid something.

It was midmorning when Aldon emerged from his downstairs workshop, blinking in the bright sunlight that filled the living room.

"The troll emerges," Ed chuckled.

"Very funny, Dad," Aldon rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway. "You weren't the one who told the Larsons next door I was a mal-formed chimera that you were keeping under observation were you?"

"Oh, you heard about that one huh?" Ed smirked. "Yeah. They thought it was funny. Given the funny hours you keep down there working on stuff, the sounds get pretty interesting sometimes."

Aldon looked out the window, and Ed glanced over to see what he was watching. Ethan was in the back yard still, but he'd stopped playing fetch and chase with Bounce, who was wagging her tail happily as she pranced around the yard with a squishy ball in her mouth. Instead, he was carefully making his way through a series of exercises Ed had given him to work on a few months back when he had asked about learning alchemy. His form wasn't any better than Ed remembered his own being, or Al's, when they started training under Izumi, but his face was schooled into an expression of concentration, and he was obviously trying to make sure that he got the movements right.

Aldon finally turned away. "Hey, Dad. Can we talk?"

A phrase Ed had learned over the years, from all three of his kids, meant _'about something that's bothering me and seems complicated and I can't talk to one of my siblings about.'_ For small stuff, Aldon and Sara usually talked to each other, and Ethan would ask either of them things, though usually he asked Aldon lately. Bigger things came to him or Winry, depending on the subject matter. Ed closed the book. "Sure. What's up?"

"Umm…can we go somewhere else to talk?" Aldon asked, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "I mean, I'd rather not have Mom or Sara walk in on this."

Which meant it was guytalk. Ed stood up. "Sure. I think I know just the place."

Half an hour later, Ed and Aldon were wandering through the Central Zoo. He'd informed Winry that he and Aldon were heading out for a little _guy time._ Further elaboration had not been necessary, and she'd agreed it was a good idea.

They didn't start talking right off, but looked into several cages and exhibits. It was a nice day and a lot of the animals were enjoying the weather. They chuckled at the antics of monkeys, and watched an elephant – which had come all the way from somewhere in the direction of Xing originally – giving itself a dirt bath. Ed had brought Aldon here because it had always been one of his favorite places to come when he was little, and still was though he was a little more reserved in his enthusiasm. Ed was still getting used to this idea that some things were more or less interesting dependent on age and social group. He'd been happy to miss out on things like regular school and teenage social drama. Or rather, he hadn't _cared _about missing it given all the more important things he'd been up to. But if he was enthused about something, he didn't care if people knew and never had. Neither did Al really.

Ed wasn't ready to be old enough to notice the generation gap! He didn't think of Aldon as a young kid. He _did_ know that his son was less experienced in the world comparatively. Still, within a few exhibits, Aldon relaxed and smiled more. Finally, as they leaned up along the railing over an exhibit that housed a herd of wild horses, Ed decided to go ahead and bring it up. "You wanted to talk about something."

Aldon sighed, and nodded, looking down at the animals below. "Yeah. It's kind of embarrassing to talk about though. I'm not sure where to start."

"Well with that kind of an introduction, I'm willing to bet this has to do with a girl," Ed took a shot at the likely answer.

He seemed to be close. Aldon groaned. "I wish! If it were just one girl, I think I'd be okay but… hell, it's _all_ of them. I mean, I'm not_ interested_ in any girl in particular but they're so distracting! It's like we all went off for the summer, and I get back to school and every one of them suddenly sprouted _curves. _I'll be right in the middle of working a calculation or something for a project and one will walk by and bam…it's gone! They flirt, and wear short skirts, and _try_ and get noticed. They're distracting, and it's annoying!"

Ed tried not to laugh as his son ranted; really he did, but a snort came out anyway. "Sorry," he replied immediately. "But I think it's part of the package. You're fifteen, you're a guy, and they're doing everything they can to get attention from every male in eyeshot."

"They're succeeding," Aldon replied grumpily. "How did you deal with this stuff?"

"I didn't. At least, not well," Ed laughed. He didn't have any trouble admitting it now. "The first time I ever fought a woman, I pinned her to the ground, but I messed up the grip and instead of grabbing her arm, I grabbed her _breast_ instead. I was so embarrassed I let go and she got away!"

Aldon chuckled. "Smooth move. But what about normal girls your age?"

"Didn't know many," Ed had to shrug. "Not that I interacted with them much. Most of the girls I saw were officers in the military, and really they could have been boys for all I noticed them more than anyone else. It never occurred to me to be attracted to Riza, or Maria Ross, or Sciezka; they were all adults before I was and really not my type. Girls my age were too confusing to mess with unless I had to, and I have to admit, I was too focused on finding the Stone and fixing Al's and my bodies to pay much attention."

"This is why it's hard to relate to you sometimes, you know that?" Aldon asked, though he was actually smiling with some amusement. "You just prove that you've always been weird."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ed snorted. "It's not that I didn't notice they existed. It's just that there were more important things going on. If something is really meaningful it's easy to ignore everything else sometimes; or at least, _most _of the time."

"Mom right?" Aldon asked, grinning just a little.

Ed nodded, smiling softly. "I was such a dork. I didn't even remember it until Al brought it up once; but he and I used to fight over who'd get to marry her when we were little. And after we came here to Central the first time, he'd tease me about her. I'd completely lose it if anyone asked if she was my girlfriend too, which I'm sure just _convinced _them she was."

"You didn't want her?"

"On the contrary," Ed shook his head. "I thought about Winry all the time. That was part of why we didn't go home until I had to. I didn't want to be distracted, and I _knew_ she'd want us to come home and stay, but I couldn't do that. It would mean giving up, so I just kept those feelings locked up, refused to admit even to myself that what I was feeling was more than friendship, more than a childhood of being close. I wasn't thinking about the future much then. I had no plan for after we got things back to normal; but your Mom knew how I felt anyway. I just was too dense to realize she felt the same. I kept trying to protect her by keeping her away, and it never worked."

"So what you're really saying is you were so wrapped up in Mom that you didn't really notice other girls most of the time," Aldon sighed and shook his head.

"Guess that isn't too helpful," Ed agreed. "You could always ask Al. He had crushes, and he was a suit of armor at the time! That made things interesting."

"I may have to ask about that," Aldon chuckled. "But it doesn't help me learn to ignore them when I'm trying to concentrate on other things."

"I can promise you the insanity_ is _only temporary," Ed replied as they started walking again. "But only getting used to it and stubborn force of will is going to get you through the worst of it. That, or a little actual female attention," he grinned wickedly.

Aldon's face went bright red. "How would that _help_ the situation?" he exclaimed.

"Relief," Ed explained. "Like opening up the pressure valve and letting a little steam out of a train engine's boiler to keep it from over-heating and exploding under pressure." A few kisses, maybe a little snuggling, were definitely preferable to losing that tenuous teenage hold on self-control. Or tenuous adult hold on it for that matter; there were times Ed was eternally grateful that Winry _put up_ with him!

"I'm sure girls find these comparisons fascinating," Aldon rolled his eyes.

"They love sarcasm too," Ed nodded straight-faced.

"So do you at least have a practical solution for dealing with when your mind is too full of things you'd rather not think about?" his son asked.

Ed grinned. "Absolutely. That's the time when I always turn to my first love."

Aldon gave him a bemused look, then shook his head sadly as he figured out almost at once what he meant. "Which way to the food court?"

It didn't take long to get there, order food, and find a table, though the place was filling up with zoo visitors. "Two burgers?" Ed laughed at his son as they sat down. "And you were teasing _me_." It was nice to be able to get back at his family sometimes. Both of the boys packed food away like most growing boys did, and they were getting taller proportionally, not wider.

"I'm just really hungry," Aldon shrugged, digging in. "Mom told me if I outgrow anything else before winter I'll be borrowing yours."

It was actually a point of pride, and relief, to Ed that his sons were growing faster than he did, and would almost certainly be taller. Ed had barely been five feet tall when he was fifteen, not growing the few inches he'd gained until after; but Aldon was already Winry's height now, edging up on Ed quickly. "If they'll fit by then," he teased, biting into his own burger. "You're too tall already."

"Don't like the idea of being the short guy in the family?" Aldon retorted.

"Your mother will always be shorter than me," Ed replied with a grin. "And Sara. Really, I don't care."

"That's a boring answer," Aldon laughed. "What happened to stories of your legendary temper?"

"I got tired of it being followed by stories of my acts of legendary_ stupidity_," Ed countered. He still hated it when people needled him about his height, but he wasn't as inclined to rise to it anymore; not and give them the satisfaction of watching him blow his top! That was what they wanted after all.

"I guess I can't blame you for that," Aldon replied, falling into quiet thought as he ate. Ed didn't bother him. They'd covered a lot of ground in one conversation so far. It was a lot to take in; Ed was just glad his son was actually thinking about these things. "So no more useful advice?" Aldon asked when he'd polished off both burgers.

"The only other useful suggestion I have I've made before," Ed shrugged. "Though for different reasons. The best way to deal with all that pent up stress and energy is with a little physical exertion."

Aldon blanched briefly. "Assuming you're not suggesting what my friends at school did," he commented weakly as he recovered, "I'm still going to remind you I'm a pretty lousy fighter." Ed had taught Aldon the basics just as he had Sara, and now Ethan. Aldon hadn't taken to it the same way his siblings had though. He was just more like Winry. Not necessarily incapable of violence, but he just didn't seem to enjoy the sparring as much.

"I didn't say you had to fight," Ed pointed out, though he could imagine what some of Aldon's friends had probably suggested! Aldon was, he thought, a lot like Al in some ways. He had the potential to be a great fighter if he wanted; Aldon just didn't want it. He was peaceful by nature. "Take up a sport; go for a run, just something that tires you out physically. It'll be easier to keep track of things mentally that way too."

"So, '_to train the mind you must train the body'_ has other applications?" Aldon smiled.

"Plenty," Ed smirked suggestively. "Just ask your Mom."

Aldon blushed. "Umm, no thanks. I'll just take your word on that."

They wandered the zoo a little while longer, admiring the big cats especially, and moving on past the giant tortoises, which appeared to be mating. That was just_ strange_ to watch.

On the way home, Ed was a little surprised when Aldon asked him yet another thought provoking question. As if they hadn't had enough of those today! "So, Dad, I know you and Uncle Al and Mom didn't really stick through regular school. I was just wondering why you expect Sara and Ethan and I to."

"We don't actually," Ed replied. "Or rather, it's hardly a requirement. Sara made that choice on her own. Is there something else you'd rather be doing? Something you want to learn that isn't covered by general education?"

"Well, some," Aldon admitted. "Though I really don't know what I want to do with my life I guess. I'm good with machines, and I like working at the shop with Mom. I'm enjoying working on that junker of a car Ollie Larson's got next door." The Larsons were long time neighbors, and Ollie had been in school with Aldon ever since they moved in several years ago. He enjoyed machinery almost as much as Aldon did, and they made an interesting pair of friends. "I don't have a teacher in mind who could teach me something I really want to do for the rest of my life for sure though. Is that so strange? I mean, you and Uncle Al knew when you were little you wanted to be alchemists right? And Mom was working with Great-Grandma Pinako when she was pretty young too and always wanted to make auto-mail; at least the way she tells it."

"We're a pretty unusual group to base normal off though, as you've pointed out," Ed smiled at his son. "Most people don't know what they want to do when they're young. Or at least, can't choose between many things they enjoy. And then, even when we know what we want, that doesn't always mean we know what we'll be _doing._ I'm more goal oriented. I learned alchemy for the purpose of making my Mom happy; then it was learning for real to try and bring her back. Then I wanted to become a State Alchemist specifically to get our bodies back to normal. I've made a living out of doing what needs doing that I can do with the skills I have; and I've picked up a lot along the way. What I really might have learned in a more regular childhood was the social skills I so painfully 'lacked' for years," he grinned self-depreciatingly. "Really, the knowledge you need to get by in life you'll pick up as you need it if you're willing to put in the effort. Alphonse is a sponge when it comes to knowledge on a large range of topics; just don't ask him a psychological question unless you really want to know what's wrong with you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Aldon chuckled. "So really, if I knew what I wanted to do and found someone to teach me, you and Mom wouldn't lose it if I went off and did something else?"

"Not at all," Ed shook his head. "We just wanted you kids to have the opportunity to make those choices for yourselves at your own pace."

"Sometimes, I'm glad you're not like most of my friends' parents," Aldon said. "Okay, most of the time," he admitted. "You don't have as many stupid rules."

"And which rules do we have that you think _are_ stupid?" Ed asked, arching one eyebrow.

Aldon has the good grace to look embarrassed. Apparently Ed wasn't the only member of the family who could stick his foot in his mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just mean if you expect something of us, it's because we're capable of it, and if you have a rule there's always a good reason for it."

"Neither your Mom nor I follow orders and rules that are arbitrary or don't make sense; not well anyway," Ed smiled. Asking their kids to do the same really wouldn't work well.

"So the rule that everyone in the house has to drink their milk…"

"Was your mother's idea," Ed grumbled. "Smart-ass."

Aldon laughed. "Mom says we all get it from you."

"And your ability to reassign blame from her," Ed countered, all in good fun. They reached the house and climbed the front steps.

Aldon turned to him briefly before going in. "Thanks for the advice, Dad; all of it."

Ed smiled. "Are you going to take any of it?"

"Maybe," Aldon shrugged as he grinned. "Taking that much parental advice at once might throw off the balance of the universe!" He headed back down the stairs instead of coming in. "I'm going to go see if Ollie's got that engine working yet. Catch you later!"

Ed watched his son run next door with a feeling that was part amusement, part pride, and part confusion; he was used to it though. When it came to Aldon especially. He turned and went inside.

"So how did it go?" Winry asked him when he found her in her workshop still, bent over some project.

"Just fine," Ed replied, leaning against the doorjamb and watching her work.

"What was bothering him?" Winry didn't look up from the auto-mail in front of her.

"Guy stuff," Ed replied vaguely. It wasn't his place to tell Winry everything that their children told him. He knew she had talks with them too that he didn't get all the details of. Everyone needed _some _assurance of privacy!

"I see," Winry chuckled softly and didn't press further. "I hope you were able to help him get things straightened out."

"I think so," he shrugged. "At least he listens. If my Dad ever wanted to have one of these talks with me, I'd probably have decked him on principle."

"As if you needed the excuse," Winry shook her head. "Still, I'm glad Aldon talked to you. He's been moping lately, and I wasn't sure why. I kind of figured it might be something like that when he wouldn't talk to me about it." Which was always saying something, given how close Aldon was to his mother and how much time they spent together.

"Moping," Ed snorted at the word choice. "I'm sorry to say I hadn't noticed. But usually when he's home he's buried in his work downstairs lately." It hurt when he realized at times that there were things he didn't know about one of his kids; especially with Aldon. He could always figure Sara out. She might as well be a girl version of himself at that age for emotions and thoughts, even though she was better at keeping her temper in public. Ethan was an open book most of the time, like most young kids, and he very much wanted to spend time with Ed.

"He gets preoccupied and more distracted when something's bothering him," Winry smiled as she picked up the auto-mail she had been working on and began to wipe the machine oil off it with a cloth. "More short-tempered too, as much as he ever is. I can always tell when he's upset though, because he eats more," the smirk she shot Ed said clearly where she knew he got _that _trait from. "Not quite like you, but he'll always have some little snack around he's nibbling on. He doesn't even realize he's doing it most of the time I think, but it's a dead give away."

"Might want to let him know he's telegraphing his emotions that badly," Ed chuckled, but he made a note to point it out to Aldon sometime, though he suspected the kid deserved a little more credit than that.

Winry nodded. "I should." She sighed, set down the auto-mail and started putting away the extra parts lying around. "It's a challenging age isn't it?"

"No matter what," Ed agreed. Of course, he'd insisted on making it pretty tough on himself; a lot more than it otherwise probably would have been, but he didn't regret the strength and experiences he had gained because of it. "I always hate feeling aimless. As for the rest of it," he grinned at Winry. "At least I always had you to keep me in line."

"Fat lot of good that did," Winry giggled. "You never listened."

"Wish I had," Ed came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Though I like to think I turned out all right in the end; even if it took me a while."

Winry leaned back against him. "I like to think you did too," she teased. "Even if you still act like a teenager sometimes."

"Only behind closed doors," Ed chuckled, nibbling at her ear. She was right of course; being in close proximity to her still drove him crazy that way, and he hoped that feeling never stopped!

"You left that one open," Winry countered, twisting her neck just slightly so she could look him in the eyes. "Irresponsible as always."

"Right now, I'm just appreciating how fortunate I am to be a married man instead." Ed took the chance to turn her around and kiss her properly. Being married to Winry trumped any other hand life could play, _hands down._

**September 26****th****, 1945**

Aldon stood in front of the bathroom mirror in nothing but his shorts and tried to look at himself objectively. _Tried_ being the operative word; he couldn't exactly ask any of the girls he knew for an opinion. His mother was biased, his sister would laugh, his little cousin was too young, and Aunt Elicia and her mother would likely just tell him he was fine looking and not to worry about it. As if that was in any way a useful opinion!

His talk with his Dad had given him quite a lot to think about and he had been; about school, about what he wanted to do with his life, about ways to survive teenage hormones without driving himself _crazy._ The last few days though, he had begun to wonder if he was aggravating the situation without even realizing it. When he paid more attention, he noticed girls noticing_ him _and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that either. It just seemed to compound the issue.

Okay. Objective opinions: eyes? They were the same color as his Dad's almost exactly. He knew people thought his Dad's and uncle's golden eyes, unusual as the colors were, were a striking feature; they had been commented on in his presence as well; So, unusual coloring, fairly striking. Were girls into that kind of thing?

Hair; a shade lighter blond than his Dad's and kept cut shorter, more like Al's. Though there was a large shock of his bangs that insisted on flopping over more just on the left side, often falling into his eyes. Was that something girls liked? He didn't dare ask any of the few female friends he had; he was almost afraid to find out their answers!

He figured his features were, well, what they were. His nose wasn't overly large, and nothing was particularly non-symmetrical; nothing weird about his face at all really. Aldon wasn't the tallest guy in his year at school, but he wasn't the shortest either, and he was still growing a lot lately. His Mom kept complaining about what it cost keeping him in clothes that didn't make him look like a vagabond!

Though given what some of the guys wore at school, he doubted his wardrobe would turn away female attention, or be more eye catching than anyone else's. Aldon preferred his clothing comfortable, functional, and stuff that wouldn't get caught in whatever he was working on; and stuff that machine oil would wash out of without_ too_ much fuss.

The body underneath the clothes wasn't bad either; at least, _he _didn't think so. He wasn't bulging muscles like the Strong Arm Alchemist, but then neither was his Dad. And while he didn't have a fighter's muscle definition, he did have his Dad's naturally lean build. Though maybe his Dad – and Sara, who teased him mercilessly some days about being soft – had a point. Getting out the cellar a little more would probably do him some good besides working out some of his girl-induced frustrations!

Still, nothing much to complain about there either; nothing a girl would notice given he wasn't one to go around _shirtless _outside his own house. So, what did all that add up to anyway?

"Don!" Sara knocked on the bathroom door. "Will you stop preening in there or whatever you're doing and get moving? I have to be out the door in fifteen minutes!"

"That's what you get for sleeping in," Aldon retorted, grinning, even though only he could see it, at himself reflected in the mirror.

His sister pounded harder. "No, you're just too damned slow!"

Aldon rolled his eyes. "Insulting me doesn't make me inclined to open the door you know."

He could almost hear Sara's teeth grating on the other side of the door. He loved his sister, and normally they were practically best friends, but she was just so easy to tease, especially first thing in the morning. "Please open the door," Sara finally spoke up.

Aldon opened it at once and stepped out. "See, was that so hard, Sis?"

Sara gave him a less-than-amused look and slipped past him. "I honestly have no idea why it takes you so long in the bathroom in the morning," she sighed as closed the door in his face.

"Do you have to antagonize her first thing in the morning?"

Aldon turned and saw his Dad standing in the hall, smirking. He shrugged and grinned. "It's too easy! Besides, if I stopped now, it would break with tradition."

His Dad laughed. "Little brothers always have to be annoying don't they?" He walked past him to head downstairs. "But if you find your stuff transmuted into scrap metal statuary some day, don't come crying to me."

Maybe he had a point. "All right," Aldon replied, still chuckling as he followed him down to breakfast. "It would be easier if she wasn't such an easy target."

"Aldon." He paused as his father's voice lost a lot of the humor. "Give her a break okay? She could use your support right now, not more frustration."

Aldon sighed, and nodded. "You're right. Sorry Dad." He knew the alchemy instruction at HQ was tough on his sister, and not because of the material to be learned. Sara was something else, and apparently most of her class was just too intimidated to know how to deal with her. Or so he surmised from Sara's grumblings. It had lessened lately, but he really _didn't _want to make things harder for her. He should be trying to make things easier for her instead.

**December 4****th****, 1945**

Sara sat up in the desk in her room with the door closed to keep out the rest of the world. They had a test tomorrow in laboratory, and there were several compounds they were expected to be able to mix from memory, as well as transmute them into specific items. Even knowing in advance what they would be asked to make, it was going to be a killer! The Prism Alchemist was a nice woman, but that didn't make the test easy. Sara was pouring over her notes, as she had been for the past three days. This was the part of alchemy that took the most work for her; the intricately detailed fine-form transmutations. She was much better at alchemy-on-the-fly, in combat, or things that were functional. Honestly, constructing barricades and walls from dirt and wood and stone had been a piece of cake in comparison. These required much more specific changes, and more drastic ones from the base components, where the final product might be very little like the components originally used.

And her father and uncle had picked all this up on their own? It was incredible really. She knew they had studied under Izumi Curtis, and read a lot on their own, but they hadn't known all this even when Edward had passed the State exam. But that was because his instinctive talents and – at his admission, a lot of what he had learned in the Gate – the ability to transform without circles made up for a lot. He could feel out the composition of something without having to think about it down to its sub-particles. They had learned a lot on the road, through trial and error, and years of study.

Sara had studied for years under her father, but only now was she really beginning to understand fully all of what she hadn't learned yet, and appreciate the depth of knowledge he had gained by her age under his own ingenuity and perseverance. He could do so much…and she was getting a headache just trying to memorize a few complex element combinations and formulas!

There was a knock at the door. Sara groaned, resting her head on her arms on her desk. "Who is it?" she called out.

"It's Don," her brother's voice came from behind the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, why not?" Sara sighed. She had no idea what he wanted, but it would be a brief welcome distraction. A glance at the clock told her that she had been studying for four hours that evening already!

The door opened, and Aldon came in. "Hey, Sis," he smiled. "I thought you could use a little pick up."

"Oh?" Sara sat up and looked at the plate and mug he sat down beside her; hot chocolate and a peanut-butter sandwich. She smiled. "Thanks, Don. I missed dinner didn't I?"

"I don't think you even heard us call you," Aldon chuckled. "There's some of that downstairs too if you want it; not much left though."

"After you and Dad and Ethan get to it, there never is," Sara shook her head. All right, so most days she was just as bad, but you had to be aggressive to get food in their house! "This is great. Thanks." She picked up the mug and sipped at the cocoa.

Lately her brother kept surprising her. It wasn't like he'd had a sudden drastic personality change or anything but he seemed… older. A little more mature, a little less annoying. He wasn't messing with her as much, and he seemed a little more self-assured.

"How's the studying going?" Aldon asked; just another example of the changes. He really didn't care about the details of alchemy any more than Mom did.

"Gristly," Sara chuckled. "My brain's been pulverized, chewed up, and left to rot."

"There's an image," Aldon grimaced, though he was grinning. Sara noted he was in dingy jeans and a tank top; definite work-wear.

"You've been down in the dungeon I see," she chuckled. "Or was it next door again?"

"Next door," Aldon replied. "That car of Ollie's needs a lot of work, and none of the other guys are really any help. It's pretty much just us at this point for getting anything useful done."

"Does it run yet?" she asked as she reached for the sandwich.

"Not quite," Aldon shook his head. "We had to move the engine block today. That thing's heavy!"

"You two lifted it?" she looked up at him, a little surprised.

"We did," Aldon laughed flexing one arm playfully. "What you don't think I can handle it?"

Sara smirked. "Frankly, I wasn't sure." But she took another look at her brother. She'd been so absorbed in lessons lately that she hadn't really noticed a lot of what was going on around the house unless it was shoved up under her nose, but he definitely looked different. "You haven't been working out have you?" she asked with a suspicious smirk. It'd be about time he took a suggestion from his sister!

"Maybe," Aldon shrugged, matching her grin. "Not that it's any of your business." Which meant, in brother speak, _'sure, but I'm not going to admit you were right.' _

"Whatever," Sara chuckled. "You look good, Little Brother."

Aldon shrugged, but she could tell he was pleased. "Thanks, Sis." He turned to go. "Blow them away tomorrow on that exam, just not literally!"

Sara laughed; feeling more relaxed than she had in a couple of days. "I'll certainly try."

**February 20****th****, 1946**

"So do you know what you're going to do for your demonstration?" Maes asked Sara as they walked together from HQ towards her house. He'd been over there in the afternoon to talk to his Dad about something, and they just decided to walk back to the house together. She didn't see enough of her friend lately and Sara knew that was partially her fault, but with the Exams only a couple of weeks off, she was more than a little stressed and distracted.

"Not yet," Sara admitted with a sigh. "It needs to be something pretty spectacular. I'm not all that worried about the written or even the interview. I've already got a record of service with the military after all, short as it may have been," she smirked self-depreciatively. "But they know what I could do four years ago, so it should be something that shows that I've improved since then."

"Something where no one can say you just got in because of your Dad," Maes nodded in understanding. When it came from_ him _it didn't sound sarcastic or critical. After all, her friend understood what it was like to have to deal with higher-up Brass as a Dad; and Maes' father trumped hers for tougher to grow up with easily! He'd been President of the military until a few years ago and Roy Mustang was a pretty imposing figure. Maes looked an awful lot like his father too, and she knew the comparisons were more frequent than even the ones she dealt with.

"Pretty much," Sara agreed. "Fortunately we have completely different specialties. Though given how varied Dad's abilities are, that doesn't make much of a difference." The fact that she knew everyone likely to be on the decision panel almost made things harder. She wanted them to be impressed even though they all knew what she could do! The bar just seemed to be set higher, even if it was just in her mind. "It just needs to be something they haven't seen before." She sighed and shrugged her coat a little higher on her shoulders as the chill in the air sharpened with the rising breeze. "Speaking of things that haven't been seen…why did you want to walk home with me today? I hardly see you anymore. You're always out on some date."

Maes actually looked a little uncomfortable. Well _good_. Ditching your best friend wasn't something to take lightly! "What, I can't choose to spend time with a friend instead?" he laughed and pouted. "I'm hurt, Elric."

"Oh stuff it, Mustang," Sara snorted, but she chuckled. "That face only works on the fluff-for-brains you seem to enjoy spending your evenings with."

"They can't all be talented alchemists," Maes shrugged. "You just don't care for their topics of conversation. I mean really, you could pass for a _guy _if you didn't have a chest."

"Excuse me?" Sara nearly choked as she stopped dead and stared at him. "Was this supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"

"Touchy," Maes chuckled, stopping as well and turning to face her. He was grinning. "I guess you really are a girl after all. It's a serious loss for all male-kind that you don't really act like one unless you feel like it, which is practically never."

"Don't go trying to turn me into one of your _skirts_ Maes," Sara rolled her eyes. Couldn't he be serious and give her a straight answer? "I've got too many things to do to get bogged down in that mess. Besides," she shifted the subject with a smirk. "When are _you _taking the exam?" She knew Maes was planning to at some point. He was already sixteen, and she knew he was good enough. He had convinced his father – though apparently that hadn't been too difficult – to teach him the flame alchemy, the knowledge for which rested only in Roy Mustang's head now. Apparently Roy's Master's notes were not available – on purpose she suspected – and Maes had never been able to locate evidence otherwise. Still, she had practiced with him and had seen what Maes had learned, and done with that knowledge.

Maes shrugged. "In a couple of years probably. Like you said, passing's going to need something spectacular. I don't want to be just _Roy Mustang's son_. Hell, even Mom's a legend in the military and she never passed the rank of Lieutenant!"

"She's more formidable," Sara chuckled, sympathizing again. "I'm not saying to rush into it, but if you already know you want to join the military and be a State Alchemist, what's keeping you?"

"Maybe I just don't want to lose out to you," Maes grinned, but Sara got the feeling he was only half joking. "I just don't feel like it's the right time, okay?"

"Okay," Sara let the subject drop. He obviously wasn't in the mood to talk about it, and she wasn't going to push. Maybe he was just enjoying what little remained of childhood freedom. She couldn't really blame him. She grinned. "Let's get back to my place and grab a snack and do some brainstorming. I'm sure together we'll come up with something that'll show them in the demonstration."

"Now that sounds like a plan," Maes agreed, flashing his most winning smile.

Sara rolled her eyes but chuckled as they started walking again. Some days he was an annoying flirt, but underneath it all, he was still her childhood friend. Sara never wanted to lose that.

**March 13****th****, 1946**

As usual, Edward looked forward to, and slightly dreaded, the annual State Alchemy Exam. The interviews were interesting and he loved seeing what his students came up with for the practical demonstrations. The part that was difficult was seeing the faces of those who didn't make it. Some of them actually stayed on another year, others went off on their own, sometimes coming back to try again the next year as well. Very few alchemists showed up now trained entirely on their own who passed the exam, but that was probably because most who wanted to become State alchemists now went through the program first.

The next two days were going to be different though. His own daughter would be taking the exam tomorrow, and Ed felt torn about it. Not that he'd ever tell Sara. He was proud of her hard work, her determination, and her skills; sticking it out despite those of her classmates who disliked her or were just plain jealous. Still, Sara was about to join the same military that Ed had once sworn to have nothing to do with once he got his brother back to normal. It washt _really_ the same military now though; and Sara might actually be a much better military officer than he had been, or possibly ever _would_ be given enough time. But he only hoped she would not regret her life choice in the long run.

Ed worried. He remembered well what it was like to be the military's dog, running here and there, following orders he didn't like. It had chafed at him; and he knew now that the reason Mustang had reached for the top, and Roy had offered Ed such a ridiculously large promotion – pissing off so many people – because it had cut Mustang and he had known that Ed felt the same.

Still, Sara was friends with so many soldiers, in the officer corps and the enlisted alike. She had friends among the existing State Alchemists. She would be fine. If Ed kept telling himself that, he was sure he would believe it _eventually._

Ed went upstairs and walked up to Sara's door. He wanted to talk to her before tomorrow, make sure she was all right. He remembered the knots in his stomach the day before his own exam! There was no answer. Curious, Ed tried the handle. It wasn't locked. "Sara?" he peeked in, and couldn't help smiling.

Sara was passed out at her desk, an alchemy book open under her head.

Smiling, Ed closed the door again and went back downstairs. A good night's sleep would do more for her than anything else, even if it was taken passed out on top of her notes. She was his girl all right!

**March 15****th****, 1946**

Sara had never been so nervous in her life; not even when she had been protecting the Base during the Battle of the Eastern Pass, when she had been too busy doing what she could to really let panic set in! The written exam had been difficult, with several questions that she was sure involved no-win situations. She had filled it out in as much detail as possible, taking the entire exam period, and actually finishing. Apparently she had passed it swimmingly because she had made the interview. That had been more trying really. They knew all the questions to ask that might set her off or find any hints of doubt. They asked about her choice to run off against direct orders from then-President Mustang and go to the Eastern Front before her fourteenth birthday, her uses of alchemy in the past, why she had chosen to take the class in the first place. It was long and grueling.

Yet she had survived that ordeal as well. This morning, she stood with fifteen other alchemists and did her best in front of President Breda, The Flame Alchemist, her father and uncle, and a large number of the Assembly and several older Alchemists of higher rank – the ones who didn't know the students as well, and would have strong sway in the final decisions. Sara had actually chosen to forego the use of her gloves for the exam. They were hardly unique and, while useful, something she couldn't always rely on having time to pull on and use.

The other demonstrations before hers were impressive, though several failed or had trouble before they were completed. They were difficult though; that was to be expected.

When her turn came, Sara needed very little of the materials actually provided. Air and light, the natural currents of electricity that ran through things, these were her materials. Using alchemy, she lifted rocks into the air roughly the size of the shells she had destroyed during the Xing war. She lifted them high above her head, above the entire space, and then let them fall.

When they were less than a hundred meters and plummeting, she dropped to the ground, drawing her circle in less than two seconds. At fifty meters, she slammed her hands to the ground. At twenty-five meters long ropes of energy that emanated golden light tinged with blue seemed to whip from the ground, the wind kicked up around the rocks pushing upward like a cushion. The rocks halted in mid air for no more than a split second before, all at once, they were cracked by the light-whips into thousands of little pieces that scattered everywhere…. But fell to the earth as nothing more than a gentle shower of soft fine-grained sand that left a dusting on people and did no damage.

"Quick, elegant, effective."

Sara didn't register which voice spoke the compliment; her heart was pounding too hard. Still, she stood and grinned, saluting the collection of judges. In the distance, she noticed a large group of uniformed bodies watching from safely out of the way. She wasn't surprised. Over the years, the exam – like their outdoor classes – had become a bit of a spectator sport. She spotted Franz in the group, obviously heading somewhere since his arms were full of paperwork and having stopped to watch. He flashed her a grin and a thumbs up!

When Sara took her place back with the others, it was all she could do to stay upright; her knees wanted to collapse with relief. She wasn't tired at all, but she felt like she had still fought a battle. They were dismissed and the alchemists went inside. It would be a few hours before they got the results, but Sara didn't want to leave HQ until she knew for_ sure. _If she failed…well, she would try again next year and figure out what to do for the year between them.

"Sara," Maes Mustang's voice caught her attention and she turned to see her friend grinning fiendishly as he caught up with her in the hall. "That was awesome!"

Sara grinned. "Don't sound so surprised. You helped me come up with it." On impulse, she gave her friend a quick hug, apparently catching him off guard. She chuckled. "Thanks, Maes."

He flushed briefly, apparently not expecting the hug, or maybe it was like being hugged by a sister in public. Either way, his smile returned in moments. "You're welcome, Sara."

"Let's grab some lunch," Sara suggested heading for the Mess. "I'm famished, and I couldn't eat breakfast this morning for all the knots in my stomach!"

Maes followed, and they ate together. After lunch Sara returned to the classroom where she had spent so much time for the past year. That was where they would come to announce who had passed the exam. She didn't want to get notice at home or by phone, she intended to _be here_.

When Marcus Kane entered the room, the knots in her stomach returned, and Sara suddenly wished she hadn't had seconds on dessert. Everyone in the room straightened up though here, out of public eye, no one snapped to attention when Marcus didn't insist. "Nicely done today," he complimented the fifteen people in the room. No one had made it to the exam who hadn't been one of her classmates. "The Brass were impressed with you lot; so was the Assembly. I was informed this was a very difficult decision. But this year, they have chosen three new State Alchemists."

Only three; Sara swallowed as Kane made a show of pulling out an envelope and pulling out the paperwork with the official letterhead.

"The three of you who have earned your State Alchemists Licenses this year are: Sara Elric, Calvin Fisher, and Torv Skald. Congratulations you three. The rest of you should feel no shame about this_ please_. To make it this far is an accomplishment in itself and you are all welcome to try again next year if you desire. Elric, Fisher, Skald, please follow me."

Sara wanted to jump, squeal, or _something_. But instead she smiled, accepted the congratulations she received with decorum, and shared smiles with Cal and Torv as they followed Marcus – Sara supposed she was going to have to call him Colonel now – down to his office.

"Here you go," Colonel Kane smiled easily at them as they stood in front of his desk. He already had three pocket watches and three sealed envelopes laid out on the desk. Each envelope had a name. "Congratulations Sara, Cal, Torv. There's not much ceremony to this, never has been. Those are your watches and the second names that President Breda has chosen for each of you as according to the tradition. Hope you like them, because you're stuck with them now." He looked amused. Of course, Sara knew from experience that Marcus Kane was actually pretty laid back most of the time. She reached out first, picking up both the watch and the envelope. The cool metal felt good in her hand. Feeling the weight of the responsibility that went with it, she attached it to the loop in her pants and stuck it in her pocket. Then she opened the envelope and read through the contents of the sheet inside. It was mostly what was expected, including the fact that she now ranked as a Major in the Amestrian military.

She read the whole thing, but the critical part had been at the beginning, and she returned to it, looking at the words over and over until she was sure they would forever be imbedded in her brain: The Twilight Alchemist.

Twilight? It was pretty, sure, but Sara wasn't sure she understood its meaning. Still, President Breda knew her as well as most and what she did. If he felt it was appropriate, than it must have some meaning she did not immediately understand. If she had the opportunity to ask him, she would do so, or maybe her father would have better insight.

"You can report to the Quartermaster's offices for uniforms," Kane added. "Obviously most of the time you won't be required to wear them in the field, but you'll need them for more official occasions and around the Brass." He chuckled. "If there are no questions, you're dismissed. Oh!" he added as they turned to go. "Twilight; Fullmetal would like a word with you in his office when you have a moment."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you," Sara replied as they left. An official summons from her father, or was Kane just keeping things professional? She wasn't sure, though Dad _had_ to know the outcome by now!

"So, you're Twilight? That's rather poetic actually."

Sara looked up into Cal's smirking face. "Yeah. You?"

Cal shrugged. "Whitewater," he smiled, obviously happy with it. His display of control over water and wet sand and the slimiest mud had been pretty impressive. Manipulating moving and unstable material was always a trick. "What about you Torv?" he turned to the taller, broad-shouldered man beside them.

"Earth Shaker," Torv grinned. His specialty was in understanding the make up of the Earth itself, and altering terrain features without making things unstable. His demonstration had involved terracing the mountain of rock available in a miniature form of a design that would have allowed an entire town to cultivate on the side of a mountain safely. It just _felt_ like an earthquake while it was happening!

"Very appropriate," Sara chuckled.

As soon as they had collected uniforms, Sara headed for her father's office while Torv and Cal headed off, chatting about the partying they were going to do that night in celebration! It sounded like, well, typical soldier revelry honestly. Sara had no idea if there was anything planned for tonight on her end; all she had been thinking about was passing the exam, not what would happen afterwards!

She entered Ed's office to find him bent over his desk, looking more than a little annoyed with paperwork. She chuckled. "If you stare at it much longer, it might combust."

Ed looked up and the frown went immediately to a warm smile. "Sara!" He stood and came around his desk, embracing her in a warm hug that she happily dropped everything in her arms into a chair to return. "That was fantastic this morning! So, the Twilight Alchemist."

Sara blinked. "How did you know_ that_?"

Ed chuckled, smiling proudly. "Who do you think Breda ran it by first to make sure it was worthy of you?"

"Does that mean you can explain it to me then," Sara smirked. "It's pretty, but I'm not sure I get the connection."

She was mildly annoyed when her father laughed, but she figured he had obviously gotten the meaning without any trouble. "Of course. But tell me, what do you think of when you think of twilight?" Ed disengaged from the hug and moved back towards his desk.

Sara shrugged. "The time between day and night, right after sunset, but before full dark."

"Beautiful time of day isn't it," Ed chuckled, fishing something out from under his desk, though she had no idea what it could be. "But think about it; what happens at twilight?"

So much for an explanation; he was going to make her figure it out for herself. "Well, predators come out to hunt," she hazarded a guess going with the first thing she knew about that time of day. "It's a dangerous time to be scouting too. The light's tricky, and it's hard to judge distances and see what some things really are. The winds shift then too."

"So what's more beautiful and dangerous than an alchemist who can manipulate light and air, let alone use it as solidly as any weapon?" Ed grinned, setting a box down on the top of his desk then and opening it. He pulled out what looked like a mass of dark reddish-purple fabric, kind of a plum color. "I know you've worked hard to build your own identity with the military, and I don't want to impose on that so if you don't want to wear this, I won't blame you." He chuckled then and shrugged, looking surprisingly self conscious. "The cuts a little better for you too, I hope anyway. But ever since I woke up for the first time at Base Command during that Xing mess and saw you standing there in mine, this had been in the back of my mind." He unfolded it then, and Sara realized she was looking at the very familiar shape of a hooded coat with the crest on the back: the Crest she knew Izumi Curtis had worn as a tattoo, that Ed had worn for years on his jacket, that Al had painted on his armor years ago and now had stitched into the same shoulder of all his uniform shirts. That Crest had come into her family from Hohenheim of Light, her grandfather, and to Izumi from Dante. Now, she wasn't borrowing it from her father, he was _asking_ her to wear it.

The full meaning of the name sank in, but was immediately overcome by the overwhelming emotions that welled inside her as she looked at the coat. "No, Dad," she reached out one hand and took it from him. Hell, her eyes were wet! She hugged him again, more tightly this time. "I'd be honored and proud to wear this. It's absolutely perfect."


End file.
